Kidnapped
by Mulderette
Summary: John Carter is the victim of a kidnapping and an unwitting Peter Benton gets dragged along for the ride.
1. Default Chapter

TITLE: Kidnapped - Part 1  
AUTHOR: Lynne Facella  
CATEGORY: Angst  
SPOILERS: Episodes through All in the Family  
ARCHIVE: Sure, just ask so I know where it is going.  
EMAIL: Mulderette@aol.com or Lynne1919@aol.com   
DISCLAIMER: All ER characters are the property of Warner Brothers, NBC, etc., etc. (The bad guys are mine).  
SUMMARY: John Carter is the victim of a kidnapping and an unwitting Peter Benton gets dragged along for the ride.   
  
  
February 15, 2000  
  
The prison rec room was bustling with activity. Some inmates sat in groups talking and playing cards. Others were reading. Bill Rivers sat with a small group watching the local news.   
  
"In other news," said the newscaster, "A medical student was fatally stabbed at Cook County Hospital late last night and a physician seriously injured. Lucy Knight died of a pulmonary embolus after undergoing surgery for multiple stab wounds. Dr. John Carter remains in serious but stable condition after receiving two stab wounds to the back. Details are still sketchy but it appears that the two were stabbed by a patient, Paul Sobriki, who they had treated earlier in the day. He is in custody at this time and is scheduled to undergo psychiatric testing. Dr. Carter is the son of multimillionaire Roland Carter.  
  
"Hey I wonder if we'll get that crazy dude in here!" yelled Duke, a rough-looking man serving a life sentence for murdering two men. "I'd like to slice him up for killing that little doll."  
  
"Yeah, she was a real cutie," replied another inmate.   
  
"Too bad it wasn't the other way around," bellowed Sam Austin a big, beefy man, serving time for dealing drugs. "He shoulda killed the doc and the girl shoulda lived.   
  
Bill remained silent, deep in thought. He was an average-sized man, 40 years old, with coppery hair and a hardened face that rarely smiled. He had grown up in a very poor family but all his life had envied those with wealth and wanted it for himself. As a child he had started out with petty theft, a candy bar here, a toy car there, eventually moving on to clothing, records and jewelry that he would sell on the streets. Finally he had graduated to armed robbery but he had been caught and sentenced to 10 years in prison. He never could get over that yearning for the finer things in life though.   
  
Bill wondered why young Dr. Carter had not entered into the family business. Bill would have killed to have been born into a family such as that. "Young fool," he thought to himself. As he sat there, the germ of an idea started to develop. His sentence was almost up and he would be be free in six months. Bill began to chuckle softly. "I hope you get well real soon, Dr. Carter..."  
  
  
  
August 23, 2000  
  
John Carter yawned ferociously as he completed the chart on the patient he had just finished up with not too long ago. The employee lounge was deserted except for him. He looked at the clock, 9 p.m. He still had three hours left of the double shift he was pulling and he was exhausted. He absently massaged his forehead which was beginning to throb. Actually his whole body was feeling kind of achy. He hoped he wasn't coming down with something. It seemed like they had been treating every illness under the sun in the ER lately. Using his arm as a pillow he put his head down on the table. He would just rest for a few minutes and then he would feel better...  
  
  
  
Dr. Elizabeth Corday walked backwards through the door of the silent employee lounge pulling Dr. Mark Greene by the hand. It was the first chance they had had to be together all day long. She pulled him towards her for a kiss and their lips met eagerly. Then Mark abruptly pulled away, a smile on his face.   
  
"Come back here," Elizabeth said enticingly, grabbing his collar. "I'm not through with you yet."  
  
"Uh uh," Mark whispered, shaking his head. "We've got company. Get a load of sleeping beauty."  
  
Elizabeth turned and saw Carter sprawled over the table in a rather awkward position, deeply asleep.  
  
"Should I dump some water on him?" Mark asked with a mischievous grin.   
  
"You're mean," replied Elizabeth studying the young man for a few moments. "He looks very sweet sleeping like that, just like a little boy."  
  
"Well if he keeps sleeping in that position he's going to end up with a stiff neck." Mark went over to Carter and shook him lightly on the shoulder. "Carter...come on Carter wake up."  
  
Blearily Carter finally managed to open his eyes and struggled into a sitting position. He blinked a few times and focused in on Mark and Elizabeth watching him. "Hey," he said. "Sorry. I guess I fell asleep."   
  
"That's okay," said Mark. "I know you've been on for a long time. We've quieted down though. Why don't you find an empty exam room so you can get some real rest?"  
  
Elizabeth who had been watching Carter closely leaned forward and felt his forehead. "Do you feel all right, John? You're flushed and you feel warm."   
  
"I guess I might be coming down with a little cold or something," admitted Carter. "I'll be okay though."   
  
"Hmmmm..."said Elizabeth. "Stay here, I'm going to get a thermometer."   
  
"No wait...I...." Carter watched helplessly as Elizabeth scurried out the door.  
  
"I think she wants to mother you," Mark said, unable to hide the amusement on his face. "When you were sleeping, she said that you looked like a sweet little boy."   
  
Carter blushed and looked at the table, obviously embarrassed by Mark's comment. Mark's grin broadened.   
  
Elizabeth came back in with a thermometer. "Open up," she said smiling.   
  
Carter obeyed just wanting to get back out to work.   
  
Mark and Elizabeth exchanged a few moments of small talk before the thermometer beeped. Elizabeth grabbed it quickly before Carter even had a chance to take it out of his own mouth.   
  
"101.2," she stated.   
  
"Go home, Carter," ordered Mark. "I'll get somebody to cover the rest of your shift. You don't belong here."  
  
Carter was about to protest that he was okay but he actually didn't feel all that great and the prospect of curling up in bed at home sounded really, really good to him. "Alright," he agreed. "I'll go home."  
  
"Keep us posted how you're doing," said Mark.   
  
"I hope you feel better," said Elizabeth.   
  
"Thanks. I'll be fine," said Carter as he went over to his locker to get his stuff. "See you guys later."  
  
By the time Carter had arrived back to his apartment he really felt awful and could hardly wait to get some rest. He opened the key to his apartment which was like an oven and turned on the air conditioner in his bedroom. Then he went in to take a quick shower. When he got out his bedroom had cooled down considerably. He threw on some lightweight cotton sweats and a T-shirt, sank into bed and quickly fell asleep.   
  
  
  
August 24, 2000  
  
Bill Rivers had been sitting in chairs at the ER for most of the afternoon. Luckily it was very busy so no one had looked at him with any suspicion. He had not even caught a glimpse of Dr. Carter as of yet. He had spent much of his remaining time in prison doing research on the Carter family in the prison library. He had learned that they were even wealthier than he would have ever thought. Roland Carter was one of the richest men in Chicago. His assets were valued at 178 million dollars. Bill's heart raced as he dreamed of what he could do with a fraction of that money. This young doctor would be the key to the life he had always dreamed of but could never attain.  
  
His ears suddenly perked up as he finally heard mention of Dr. Carter. A petite red-haired woman with a cane was asking a doctor with thinning hair if Carter would be in that evening. He answered that Carter was out sick and he would be taking his shift. Bill mentally noted it was odd that they just called him Carter but that was all he needed to hear. He left the ER and went out to the garage where he had two partners stationed in a van. One, Tony Ciccio, had been one of his best buddies since childhood. The other, Frank Ryan, was a heavyset muscleman who Bill did not know but Tony said he was trustworthy and Bill trusted Tony's judgement implicitly.   
  
Bill squeezed into the front seat of the van. "The kid's home sick."  
  
"Now what?" asked Frank. He wanted to get this over and done with. He was planning a fine trip to Vegas at the end of this caper with plenty of food, gambling and women.   
  
"I think we should just nab him at home," said Bill. "He doesn't live in a particularly secure building. I think it would be easier than trying to grab him here anyhow. Not so many witnesses around."  
  
"You're the boss, Bill," said Tony and he turned the key in the ignition.   
  
  
  
Dr. Peter Benton walked through the ER on his way to the garage. He wanted to let Carter know that a young boy with very serious injuries from an MVA the day before had improved and it looked as though he would recover.  
  
"Hey Randi," he said, walking up to the front desk. "Is Carter around?"   
  
Mark, who was putting away a patient chart, overheard Peter. "Carter's sick, Peter. I sent him home last night at the end of his shift."  
  
"What's wrong with him?" asked Benton.   
  
"I don't know," said Mark, "Probably just some viral thing. He was running a fever and was really fatigued. He was at the end of a double though so he probably just needs to get some rest."  
  
"Yeah, okay thanks," replied Benton. As he walked out to his car he could not shake a nagging feeling that something was wrong. Carter didn't get sick very often. He decided to stop by Carter's apartment. He knew he was just probably being silly but ever since Carter had been stabbed he had felt more protective of him and he would just feel better if he checked and made sure he was alright.  
  
  
End Part 1  
  
  



	2. Kidnapped - Chapter 2

TITLE: Kidnapped - Part 2  
AUTHOR: Lynne Facella  
CATEGORY: JC, PB  
SPOILERS: Episodes through All in the Family  
ARCHIVE: Sure, just ask so I know where it is going.  
EMAIL: Mulderette@aol.com or Lynne1919@aol.com   
DISCLAIMER: All ER characters are the property of Warner Brothers, NBC, etc., etc. (The bad guys are mine).  
  
  
  
"Knock...knock...knock....knock..."   
  
Carter groaned as he shoved the pillow over his head. Were they doing construction in the building or something? He shivered as he pulled the blankets tighter around him. He really ought to get up and turn down the air conditioning but he was too tired. He had been in bed for most of the day, pretty much only getting up to take Tylenol and to call the hospital and let them know he would not be in tonight. He could tell he had a fever but he had no idea where his thermometer was so he could take his temperature. It wasn't in the medicine cabinet and he couldn't be bothered to look for it.   
  
Bill knocked again on Carter's second floor apartment door. Frank was with him while Tony waited outside in the van. It had been ridiculously easy to gain entry into the building. They had basically just gone right in behind a woman coming home from work.   
  
"Maybe he's not here," said Frank.  
  
"He's here," replied Bill.   
  
"Maybe he's with a woman."  
  
Bill glared at Frank as he grabbed a credit card out of his wallet. "Keep watch," he murmured. Quickly he got the door open and they stepped inside the apartment.   
  
"You sure this guy's a millionaire?," whispered Frank as his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the apartment. The place was okay but certainly not the way he imagined a wealthy person would live. The blinds were drawn giving the room an almost gloomy air. The living room was simply furnished with a sofa, armchair, a couple of end tables and a coffee table which was covered with medical journals. A bookshelf built into the wall was overflowing with books.  
  
"His parents are the millionaires," stated Bill.  
  
Frank gave Bill an incredulous stare. "Wow! This guy is some kind of moron." He couldn't even fathom why anyone in a wealthy family such as Carter's would ever want to go through the hassle of medical school.   
  
Bill bent down, pulling up the leg of his pants to reveal an ankle holster. He pulled out the loaded 38 caliber revolver and held it almost lovingly in his hand. He had missed having a gun in prison, the feeling of importance which came with it. A gun commanded respect. It gave him power. He had not felt such an adrenaline rush in a very long time. "Come on." He smiled but his eyes were cold as he walked towards the closed door which he assumed was the bedroom.  
  
Frank reached behind his back underneath his shirt and drew out his own gun following closely behind Bill.   
  
Bill pushed open the door and they were hit by a blast of cold air from the air conditioning which was softly humming in the background. He strode over to the bed, yanked the covers off and shoved the gun practically in Carter's face. "Good evening Dr. Carter."   
  
Startled out of his half aware state, Carter opened his eyes to find a strange man pointing a gun at him. His breathing quickened and he thought his heart was going to leap out of his chest it was pounding so hard. "You're dreaming...you're dreaming....you're dreaming...." He thought to himself, fighting the overwhelming terror that was starting to overtake him.   
  
"Get up."  
  
Carter looked towards the other voice and saw a burly man with a sneer on his face who also had a gun pointed at him. "Wh...what's going on?" he asked, hating the trembly sound of his voice.  
  
"We're just going for a little trip," Bill said. "Keep your mouth shut and we'll get along just fine. Open it and I'll blow your brains out. Now get up and put some shoes on unless you want to go barefoot."  
  
Carter rose slowly, wondering if this was just some fever-induced nightmare. Maybe he was delirious or something. It couldn't really be happening. He grabbed the pair of Reeboks by his bed, put them on and stood up cautiously.   
  
"Good," said Bill. "Now you're going to walk out of here in front of us. Any trouble at all and we will not hesitate to use these guns. Get going." He stuck the gun in the middle of Carter's back and pushed him hard to make his point.   
  
Carter started out of the bedroom towards the entrance of his apartment. Every muscle in his body tensed and he fully expected to have a hole blown through him any second. They made it out to the front of the apartment building without incident though.  
  
Carter looked wildly around him, wondering if he should make a break but then jerked in pain as Bill jammed the gun into his side. "Don't even think about it," Bill said "You'll be sorry."   
  
They walked to the van parked in front of the building and Bill opened the back door. "Get in."  
  
"Hey!" All three men turned at the sound of the new voice as Benton trotted up. "Carter man, what are you doing?"  
  
"He's getting in this van and now you are too." Bill said menacingly, allowing Benton to see a glimpse of the weapon he had shoved against Carter. "Either of you tries anything, I'll kill the other one."  
  
Carter gave Benton an apologetic look as he climbed into the van. Benton followed suit. Frank got in behind them and slammed the van door.   
  
"Carter what the hell is...." Benton's question was stopped by a vicious punch to the stomach that sent him reeling.   
  
"Shut up!" yelled Frank. "Nobody said you could talk!"   
  
Everybody lurched as the van suddenly sprang to life. Frank got busy right away. He forced Carter and Benton to the floor, grabbed some rope and roughly tied their hands behind their backs. Then he grabbed some old rags and started ripping them into strips. He blindfolded and gagged both men and then relaxed for the ride.   
  
Benton's mind started racing as he tried to piece together what had just happened. "Who are these guys?" he wondered. "What the hell do they want?" His thoughts turned to Carter. Things had been rough following the stabbing but he had gotten himself a good therapist and had been doing much better the past few months. This was likely to push him right over the edge.  
  
Carter in the meantime was attempting to stay calm. "It's alright...it's alright.. Benton's here.... Benton's here..." Not that he wanted Benton to be endangered but at least he didn't feel so alone. He kept repeating this mantra in his head and tried to slow down his breathing. It wasn't going to help matters any if he lost control. He wondered why these horrible things kept happening to him. He tried to be a good person for all the good it did him. Maybe he had been a vile person in another life or maybe he was just jinxed.   
  
They drove for a long time. There was a lot of bumping and jarring going on. Benton wasn't sure if it was because of rough roads or maybe just that he wasn't used to sitting on the floor in the back of a van. He stayed alert straining to hear some clue of where they were going. Carter's head was pounding relentlessly and in spite of everything he could no longer fight his exhaustion and he fell asleep.   
  
Finally the van stopped. Carter and Benton were grabbed and forcibly shoved to their feet. Nobody spoke to them, just pushed and shoved them along. It was very hard to walk with the blindfolds and both men tripped over rocks and holes in the ground only to be roughly grabbed and steadied by their captors. At last they came upon what they could only assume was their destination. They heard a door opening and they were shoved inside some kind of a structure.   
  
At last they were given some relief as their arms were unbound and they were allowed to take the blindfolds from their eyes and the gags from their mouths. They warily looked around their surroundings. They noticed that there was an additional man, who must have been the driver, besides the two who had originally nabbed them. They saw that they were in a cold, gloomy stone structure with cells, what looked like a very old jailhouse. An involuntary shiver ran down Carter's spine.  
  
"First thing's first," Bill said. "The rules remain the same. If either of you does anything to antagonize us, we will take it out on your buddy. Now who the hell are you?" he asked, indicating Benton.  
  
Benton moistened his lips before speaking. His whole mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton from the gag. "Dr. Peter Benton," he replied.   
  
Bill considered this. Now there would be two doctors missing. They would have to move pretty fast. "Well Dr. Peter Benton," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I bet you are certainly happy you chose today to visit young Dr. Carter now aren't you? Now you get to share in our wonderful adventure."  
  
Benton said nothing, just glowered at Bill.  
  
Bill felt a little disappointed that Benton didn't react. "I suppose you are both wondering why you're here, any guesses?" he asked. "How about you, Dr. Carter, surely you must be curious."  
  
"I'm guessing it has something to do with money," Carter said, his voice croaking as he swallowed painfully.  
  
"You win first prize!" Bill bellowed enthusiastically. "Very astute of you, or maybe not so astute. I don't suppose it takes a brain surgeon to figure that out."   
  
Frank and Tony nodded and chuckled appreciatively.   
  
"Oh well, enough of this," Bill said warmly, in the manner of a host welcoming guests. "Come on, I'll show you gentlemen to your accommodations. They are really quite lovely and very, very private. No chance at all of any unwelcome visitors. You're lucky we found this place -its out in the middle of nowhere. Not many people know about it."  
  
They walked down the passageway past a couple of cells that looked pretty decrepit with large chunks of stone falling out of the walls. Benton made a mental note that it wouldn't be too hard to break out of this place if they were to leave them here. A few minutes later he found out he was mistaken. They were led to a door that led to an underground stairway.   
  
Carter and Benton looked down with trepidation. Bill pulled out a flashlight from his pocket. "Hey Frank, wanna grab a couple of candles from that box?"   
  
Frank brought over the candles. "Come on you two, move," said Bill.   
  
Carter and Benton moved warily down the stairs. At the bottom from the light of the flashlight beam they could see a couple of heavy iron doors to what most likely were isolation cells. Carter felt a cold heaviness in his chest and he broke out into a sweat. He could not be put into one of those cells alone. He knew he wouldn't be able to stand it. Abruptly the flashlight beam focused in on his face. "Relax Dr. Carter," said Bill. "I know what happened to you and I'm not a monster. I'm going to let you and your friend be roomies."   
  
"Now which room would you like?" he asked. "Would you like our special country inn motif or the honeymoon suite?"   
  
Frank guffawed loudly and his laugh echoed in the tomb-like structures. He then proceeded to open one of the doors which creaked hideously and Carter and Benton were shoved into the dark depths. A candle was lit and passed to them along with a couple of extras.   
  
"I'm sorry we didn't bring any medical books for your reading pleasure," said Bill. "I guess you will just have to entertain yourselves. Oh yeah, here's some water," he said, thrusting gallon-sized container at them. We'll be back later."  
  
The iron door was closed with a bang and was locked with a padlock from the outside. Carter and Benton were left alone.   
  
  
End of Part 2  
  



	3. Kidnapped - Chapter 3

TITLE: Kidnapped - Part 3  
AUTHOR: Lynne Facella  
CATEGORY: JC, PB  
SPOILERS: Episodes through All in the Family  
ARCHIVE: Sure, just ask so I know where it is going.  
EMAIL: Mulderette@aol.com or Lynne1919@aol.com   
DISCLAIMER: All ER characters are the property of Warner Brothers, NBC, etc., etc. (The bad guys are mine).  
  
  
  
After the cell door closed Carter and Benton stood silently mesmerized by the golden flicker of the candle, the only spot of light in the room. After a few moments Benton's voice pierced the stillness of the cell. "Hey man, you okay?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm alright." Carter's voice was subdued. "Are you okay? That guy punched you pretty hard."  
  
"I'm fine," Benton stated. He bent down and picked up another of the candles, lighting it from the flame of the first and then did the same with a third candle. The added light of the additional candles illuminated the whole cell, not that there was much to see. In the corner there was a tattered old blanket. Some tiny scraps of paper littered the floor. It was exceedingly dismal.   
  
Benton glanced at Carter noting that he didn't look particularly well. "Carter...why don't you sit down before you fall down."  
  
Carter shook his head.  
  
Benton sighed. "Come on," he said more insistently.   
  
Carter stared at Benton for a moment, opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it and slid down to the floor, his back against the wall and his knees hugged against his chest.   
  
Benton knelt down next to him and handed him the container of water. "Here, why don't you drink some of this."  
  
Once again Carter shook his head. His stomach was in knots and he felt like he wouldn't be able to keep it down.   
  
Benton shut his eyes, trying to fight against the aggravation he could feel setting in, not so much against Carter but rather the whole situation. Carter definitely wasn't helping matters right now though.   
  
"Carter will you please drink the damn water?"  
  
Carter put his head down against his knees. "I don't want any," he said, his voice muffled but persistent.   
  
Benton had no idea why Carter was being so stubborn. He seemed to want to fight against everything Benton suggested. He raised the jug of water to his own lips and took a couple of long swallows. The water was deliciously cool as it slid down his parched throat. He closed the lid and settled down next to Carter. He decided a change in subject might at least get the younger man talking. "So...," he began. "Do you have any bright ideas of how we're going to get out of this mess?"  
  
"No," replied Carter without raising his head.  
  
"You're feeling pretty lousy, aren't you," Benton commented.   
  
"I'm fine."   
  
"Well Carter, I don't think you're fine if you don't even have enough strength to lift your head up," Benton said with a hint of sarcasm.   
  
Carter lifted up his head but didn't look at Benton. His face was flushed and dotted with droplets of sweat. Carter ran his hand through his hair brushing the limp strands away from his forehead. His eyes were glazed and without even touching him, Benton knew he was running a fever.   
  
"I'm sorry about this," Carter said, his face plainly miserable.  
  
"Huh?" Benton looked at Carter with confusion for a few seconds but then realization set in as to what Carter was saying. "Carter...this isn't your fault."  
  
"Yeah and Romano's a real pussycat," replied Carter.  
  
Benton smirked but then his face turned serious again. "Listen Carter. It's not your fault that you were born with money and it certainly isn't your fault that these guys have decided to try to capitalize on that fact. We have enough to worry about without you beating yourself up about something that you can't change. We have to keep our heads on straight if we're going to get out of this."   
  
Carter nodded in agreement. "Okay," he said. He knew that what Benton was saying was true.   
  
Once again Benton reached for the container of water and held it out to Carter. "Please?" he asked.  
  
Carter relented as he took the container from Benton and drank some of the water. He winced as the water first hit his throat which was very sore. After he drank he carefully wiped the bottle with the bottom of his T-shirt. "I hope you don't get sick too."  
  
"I won't."   
  
They sat in silence for a while just watching the candles. Then Benton spoke again. "I wonder how much money these guys are looking for?"  
  
"I don't know," Carter shook his head slowly. "They know my family is loaded. I'd say its quite a bit."   
  
Benton chuckled. "I hope that they're including me in your deal. If they go to my family I think I'm up a creek."  
  
Carter smiled. "I'm sure my family can come up with enough for the two of us."   
  
"Yeah well..." Whatever Benton was about to say was lost as they heard the sound of someone fiddling with the lock outside the door. Both men tensed as they waited for the door to open.   
  
Bill and Frank entered the cell with their guns drawn. "You just stay sitting," said Frank to Benton who had started to rise to his feet. He sat back down reluctantly watching the men guardedly.  
  
"You. Get up," Bill ordered waving his gun at Carter. He warily got to his feet fighting back a slight wave of dizziness. "Come on, move," he said as he shoved Carter towards the door.  
  
"What's going on?" asked Benton, a worried expression on his face. "Where are you taking him?"  
  
"Now don't you worry about a thing, doc," said Frank, an ugly sneer on his face. "If he does what we tell him, no one will get hurt." He slammed the door and locked it leaving an anxious Benton behind.  
  
  
  
The three men went up the stairs to the main part of the building. Tony was waiting, lazily leafing through the Chicago Sun Times. "Hey those White Sox have been on a tear lately," he said. "I'm gonna have to get some bets going on them."  
  
"Well, we should have plenty of money for that soon enough, said Frank with a grin. He reached into a cooler and pulled out a beer.   
  
Bill ignored the two men, preferring to get right down to business. "Okay doc, here's the deal," began Bill handing Carter a sheet of paper. "I want you to read this into the tape recorder and try to sound convincing. I'd have you call your family but we are too far out for a cell phone. Please don't screw around or change any words or you and your friend will be very sorry."  
  
"That's right doc," said Frank, laughing, a beer in one hand and his gun in the other. He playfully aimed the gun at Carter's head and then abruptly jerked it away, shooting the gun out an open window. "You'll get a bullet in your brain if you mess with us!"  
  
Carter jumped as the gun exploded. This guy was definitely not to be messed with. He had a crazed look about him and Carter had no doubt that he would think nothing of shooting them.   
  
"What the hell are you doing, Frank?" asked Bill, angered. He glared at Tony. "I thought you said this guy was good."  
  
"Aw loosen up Bill," said Tony. "He's just letting off a little steam. Anyhow, it will give his buddy something to think about."  
  
Bill sighed. It seemed that Tony had changed a lot in the years Bill had spent in prison. He was beginning to think he should have been more careful in his choice of partners but it was too late now. He would just have to make due with what he had. He handed the microphone of the recorder to Carter. "You're on. Make it good."  
  
Carter cleared his throat and started to read. "Hi, it's John. I'm not sure where I am but it's impossible to reach you by phone. Dr. Benton and I are being held for ransom. These men want fifteen million dollars. I truly believe if you do what they want that Dr. Benton and I will be released unharmed. If you contact the police or refuse to pay," he paused for a moment before continuing, "they will kill us both."   
  
"Very, very good, Dr. Carter," said Bill, a wide grin on his face. "You got it on the first try. Just for that you're going to get a reward." He grabbed a large black duffel bag that was lying on the floor. "Frank, will you grab a couple more jugs of water?"  
  
"Let's get going," Bill said to Carter. "Your pal must be worried."  
  
  
  
Down in the cell Benton was practically out of his head with worry. He had heard the gunshot and his mind and his heart were racing. Had those bastards ruthlessly killed Carter in cold blood? Had they wounded him? Were they coming back to kill him too or were they just going to leave him here to rot. Frankly he would rather be shot too if those were his only options. He frantically paced back and forth like a caged animal, then stopped short, his body filled with tension as he heard the lock being opened.   
  
Frank stepped into the cell holding two jugs of water in one hand and the guy in the other. "We're baaaack," he said in a singsong voice, as he shoved the water at Benton. "Take these."  
  
Benton took the two containers of water and put them on the floor beside the other one. He then breathed a sigh of relief as an apparently unscathed Carter reentered the cell with Bill behind him.   
  
"What's up doc," cackled Frank. "Did we scare you? Did you think your little buddy was dead?"  
  
Benton grabbed Carter by the arm and pulled him protectively away from the two men. "I heard a shot. Did they hurt you?"  
  
Carter shook his head. "No they were just messing with us," he said in a low voice, barely above a whisper.   
  
"Relax, Dr. Benton," said Bill. "He did very, very well. He even earned the two of you a reward. You would have been very proud of him." He tossed the duffel bag he was carrying over near the water jugs.   
  
"Well, I guess we'll be off," he said. "We'll be collecting our money and with any luck we won't be seeing you two again in this lifetime."  
  
A growing sense of dread came over Carter as Bill's words registered. "What? You're just going to leave us locked down here?" he asked, his voice cracking.  
  
Benton started to move towards the men angrily. "You can't just leave us here, its inhuman!"  
  
"Back off doc," Bill said as both men raised their guns. "If everything goes as planned the next face you see will be whoever comes to rescue you. Once we collect our money and are on our way, we'll contact someone and let them know where you are."   
  
"No wait!," shouted Carter, becoming more and more panicked. "You won't be able to reach my parents. They're out of the country. I don't know when they'll be back. You can't just leave us here!"  
  
Frank's eyes filled with rage at Carter's words. "Out of the country?!" he bellowed. "Why you little punk!" Before anybody had a chance to react he raised his gun at Carter and pulled the trigger.  
  
The impact of the bullet threw Carter against the wall as it entered his left shoulder.   
  
"You idiot!" Bill screamed. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"  
  
"You heard him," yelled Frank angrily. "His parents are out of the country! We won't get squat for this. It was just a big waste of time. I'll kill him. I'll kill them both!"  
  
"Shut up! You're not going to kill anybody." Bill said vehemently. "I knew his parents were out of the country," he said slowly emphasizing each word. "If you had bothered to ask me I could have told you that we were going to his grandparents for the money."  
  
Benton debated making some kind of move while the two men were quarreling but decided it would be futile. He turned his attention to Carter who was leaning against the wall, a dazed look on his face, his blood quickly changing the whiteness of his T-shirt to red.   
  
"Carter, come on, lay down," Benton gently helped Carter to the floor.   
  
Carter's face was deathly white as he tried to ignore the hot pain that was igniting his shoulder. He closed his eyes, as he listened to the sound of Benton ripping his shirt in order to better examine him.   
  
"No exit wound. The bullet is still in there," murmured Benton. He quickly took off his own shirt pulling off his t-shirt underneath and carefully folding it into a pad. He then used this to apply pressure on the wound in order to try to stop the bleeding. Carter remained silent, trying to make his mind a blank although it was difficult. He was starting to feel very sleepy and could feel himself drifting off.  
  
"Carter come on man, stay with me," Those words jarred Carter back into alertness. They were the same words Benton had used when he had been on his way up to the OR after having been stabbed by Paul Sobricki.   
  
"You're always saving my ass, aren't you," he said.   
  
"Yeah well you're always getting yourself into these scrapes," replied Benton trying to keep his tone light. "Someone has got to get you out of them."  
  
Bill walked over, a look of concern on his face. "How is he?" he asked.   
  
"He needs some proper medical attention," said Benton.   
  
"You're a doctor aren't you?" said Frank snidely from across the room.  
  
"I don't have anything to take care of this here," said Benton. "He needs surgery to get this bullet out of his shoulder. He needs bandages and antibiotics. He can't stay here. We have to get him to a hospital."  
  
"I'm very sorry this happened," said Bill quietly. "I didn't mean for anybody to get hurt."   
  
"Well, if you're really sorry," said Benton, "You'll let us go so I can get him some help."  
  
"There's some stuff you will need in the bag," said Bill as he started to back away towards the door. "Blankets and food...We'll send help. I promise."  
  
"What? No!" Benton said, an incredulous look on his face. He got up and started to sprint across the room after Bill. The door was slammed before he reached it. Benton pounded on the door in frustration. "You can't leave us in here!" he hollered. "At least let us out of the cell! Damn you! Give us some kind of a chance!!" Benton's urgent pleas were met with only the gradually fading footsteps of the two men as they ascended up the stairs and then silence. He bowed his head in dismay and then headed back to try to help Carter as best he could.  
  
  
  
End of Part 3  
  
  



	4. Kidnapped - Chapter 4

Title: Kidnapped - Part 4  
Author: Lynne Facella  
Email address: Mulderette@aol.com or Lynne1919@aol.com   
Rating: PG  
Keywords: Angst  
Spoilers: Episodes through All in the Family  
Archive: Sure, just ask so I know where it is going.  
Disclaimer: All ER characters are the property of Warner Brothers, NBC, etc., etc. (The bad guys are mine).  
Summary: Dr. Carter is held for ransom and an unwitting Dr. Benton gets dragged along for the ride.  
  
  
"Hey man, how are you doing?" Benton asked as he knelt down next to Carter. Carter's face was very pale and soaked with sweat. Benton went back to putting pressure on the wound, hoping to get the bleeding to stop. He knew that he shouldn't have stopped the pressure in the first place, but he had just been so frantic when those jerks had left, that he hadn't been thinking clearly.  
  
Carter silently watched Benton, trying not to think about the pain he was in, the blood gushing from his shoulder, and the fact that those men had left them here, most likely to die. He tried to think of something pleasant but found that he couldn't. The only thoughts that came into his head were dark and dismal.   
  
"Great the bleeding has stopped." Benton's relieved voice interrupted Carter's morbid thoughts. At least something had gone right. He grabbed the remaining section of the T-shirt and tightly bandaged Carter's shoulder. "You still with me?"  
  
"Yeah. I'm all right." Carter replied unconvincingly. He actually felt horrible. The pain in his shoulder was much worse than the pounding headache and sore throat, but they were still persistent reminders in the background. He longed for a drug-induced oblivion.  
  
"Sure you are," Benton said as he gently patted Carter's good shoulder. He was really at a loss as to what he could say that could be of comfort at this point. Then he remembered the duffel bag and Bill's babbling about Carter's reward. "Hey, let's see if they gave us anything useful." He dragged the duffel bag across the floor so that Carter could see its contents also.   
  
"What if there's a bomb?" asked Carter warily.   
  
His words stopped Benton short. He looked at Carter uncertainly. "A bomb?" He never would have thought of a bomb, but then again, nothing would surprise him at this point.   
  
"Yeah, a bomb," said Carter as he started laughing hysterically. "You know, BOOM!" He didn't know why he was laughing, but he couldn't seem to stop; maybe it was just to keep from crying.   
  
"Carter, CARTER!" Benton said, clearly rattled by Carter's uncharacteristic behavior. "We're going to get out of this. Don't worry."   
  
As fast as his laughter had started, it stopped. Carter looked at Benton with pain and fear in his eyes. "You really think that?"   
  
"Yeah I do," Benton replied. "I don't know how, but I do believe we will be okay. You have to believe it, too."   
  
"Sure, yeah, okay," Carter said weakly shaking his head in the process. It was a characteristic that Benton had noticed in Carter in the past. He would verbally agree with whatever someone was saying to him but would unconsciously be shaking his head negatively. Not that Benton blamed him for being discouraged. He knew he was feeling like crap and there wasn't a heck of a lot that Benton could do to make him feel better. He did know that it was up to him to be the strong one. He would have to keep Carter's spirits up the best that he could.   
  
Benton cautiously unzipped the duffel bag and peered at its contents. "No ticking," he said with a grin, which was met with a stony look from Carter. Benton shrugged and started pulling the objects out one by one. Two blankets, a flashlight with batteries, a box of crackers, six beef jerky sticks, a small stack of Styrofoam cups, six Hershey bars, and a bottle of Advil.   
  
"That's an odd assortment of stuff," Carter commented eying the Advil yearningly. "Maybe they robbed a 7-11 before they went on to bigger things."  
  
"Yeah well at least they left us something to live on," replied Benton, noting Carter's intense focus on the Advil. He took the Advil bottle, which was about half full and counted out 22 tablets. "Okay, Carter. You know better than I do just how bad you're feeling right now. We don't know how long we're going to be stuck here. Do you want to try to ration these, start with only two pills or do you want three or four?  
  
Carter pondered for a few seconds before murmuring "I'll try two for now." At the moment he would be grateful for any relief he could get.   
  
Benton poured some water into one of the cups and helped support Carter's head to he could take the pills. Carter thirstily gulped down the water. "Come on man, slow down," Benton admonished gently. "You don't want to upset your stomach."   
  
Carter obediently drank the remainder of the water slowly.   
  
"More?" Benton asked when Carter had drained the cup.  
  
"No thanks, I've had enough." He involuntarily shivered as a chill run through him.   
  
Benton studied Carter thoughtfully for a few moments. He took hold of one of the blankets and spread it out over the floor. "Come on," he said as he carefully helped Carter onto the blanket. "Let's get you off of this cold floor."   
  
He draped the other half of the blanket over Carter and put the other blanket over him too. Then he took the duffle bag and folded it up as best he could and put it under Carter's head. "Is that better?"  
  
"Yes. Thank you," replied Carter but looked at Benton questioningly. "What about you? Aren't you cold?"  
  
Benton shook his head. "No. I'm comfortable. It's probably hot as Hell outside."  
  
"Yeah, probably..." Considerably warmer and more comfortable, Carter felt his eyelids becoming heavier. He struggled to keep them open.   
  
"Come on man, don't fight it," Benton said softly. "Just go to sleep for a little while. Maybe you'll feel better."  
  
"I'm....not....really....sleepy....." Carter managed to get out before surrendering to sleep.  
  
Benton sat silently watching Carter as he slept. He cursed that they didn't even have a watch. They had no idea how much time was passing by down here. He couldn't imagine being a prisoner in this place for a long period of time; he wouldn't be able to stand it. He paced around the cell for a bit and tried unsuccessfully to open the door. He didn't think there was any possibility of them getting out of here on their own. His stomach growled and Benton opened the box of crackers and munched on a couple. Not exactly gourmet dining, but it was certainly better than nothing. He thought about eating one of the beef jerky sticks but decided not to just yet. He looked over at Carter again and was thankful that he still seemed to be resting easily. He decided he might as well try to catch a little shut eye also, and a short while later, he too was fast asleep.  
  
  
  
August 25, 2000, 9 a.m. - The Carter Estate  
  
  
Tony whistled softly in awe as he drove the van up the winding road towards the Carter mansion. "Wow, that kid really does come from a mega bucks family," he said.   
  
"No shit!" exclaimed Frank. "I'm surprised they don't have a gatekeeper to keep riff raff like us out."  
  
Bill remained silent. His heart was beating in anticipation of closing in on his life's goal. He just hoped nothing else would go wrong. Frank had acted very recklessly when he had shot young Carter. It was very regrettable but Bill had come too far to stop now. He had spent too much time planning this and it was a one shot deal. At least the kid was with a doctor. Although Benton's appearance had initially seemed like it could throw a hitch into their plans, it had actually turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Hopefully he would be able to keep him alive. Bill really wanted the money, but he did not condone murder and had had no intentions of anybody getting hurt.   
  
"Okay, you two wait here, I'm going to go in alone," Bill said as Tony pulled up in front of the house.  
  
"Why can't we come too?" Frank asked belligerently.   
  
"Because we don't need any more screw ups like you shooting Carter," Bill replied angrily. "And I'm the one in charge here. You're getting paid to follow orders and keep your mouth shut."  
  
Bill grabbed the tape recorder and slammed out of the van.   
  
"Touchy..." Frank murmured as he and Tony watched Bill walking up the stairs to the front door.   
  
"He's smart though," said Tony with clear admiration. "Billy's always thinking. If anybody can get us this payoff, he can."  
  
Bill got to the front door, took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. He listened to the chimes from within but nobody came to the door. He rang it two more times. Finally, after an interminable wait a smartly dressed butler came to the door.  
  
"Can I help you?" he asked looking at Bill with obvious distaste.   
  
"I'm hear to see Mr. Carter," Bill replied, meeting the butler's gaze head on. Who was he to be looking down on him? He was a butler for crying out loud.   
  
"Mr. Carter is out of the country on business," replied the butler who then started to close the door.  
  
"Wait!" said Bill frantically. "Mrs. Carter then, is she here?"  
  
"Madame does not see anybody without any appointment. You'll have to come back some other time."  
  
"The Hell I will," Bill said, trying not to lose his temper. "This is important. I'm sure she will want to see me."  
  
"I sincerely doubt that," the butler said making no attempt to disguise his contempt for the man in front of him, as he once again attempted to close the door.  
  
"Goddamn, you!" Bill roared as he stuck his body halfway into the house. "I need to see Mrs. Carter."  
  
The butler was a large formidable man who took his job very seriously. "You will leave the premises at once or I will have you removed." He stated firmly, his body blocking Bill from further entry into the house.  
  
"Charles... Charles what on earth is going on?" came a female voice from inside the house. A moment later Millicent Carter appeared at the door. "Who are you and what do you want?" she demanded.   
  
Bill contemplated the woman in front of him. She had class written all over her. Although dressed very simply, she had that special look that only the very wealthy could achieve. "I'm sorry to bother you, Mrs. Carter, but trust me, you will want to hear what I have to say."  
  
"I am a very busy woman whoever you are," she replied impatiently. "Just state your business and be on your way."  
  
"What I have to tell you is private," Bill said looking meaningfully at the butler. "It involves your grandson."  
  
"I am not accustomed to allowing strangers into my home."   
  
"I suggest you make an exception," Bill said allowing a slight threatening tone into his voice.   
  
Millicent contemplated the man and despite her better judgement allowed him to enter the front door. "Fine you have five minutes," she said. He followed her through the parlor into a den.   
  
"Charles, you will wait right here in case I need you," she instructed. The butler did as she asked casting a glare in Bill's direction.   
  
She closed the door behind her and gave Bill her attention. "Well?" she asked in an icy tone.   
  
"I think this is all you are going to need to hear," Bill said as he pressed the play button on the tape recorder.   
  
He watched as Millicent's expression changed from the initial shock of hearing John's voice to shock and fear by the time the message ended.   
  
"Why are you doing this?" she asked in a horrified whisper, her fingers playing with the strand of pearls fastened around her neck. She was terrified at the thought of what could be happening to John.   
  
"I thought your grandson made that plain," Bill replied coldly. "Fifteen million dollars and you get little Johnny back."   
  
Millicent's mind worked rapidly, trying to think of the best way to handle this. "That's a lot of money," she said slowly. "I'll need some time to get it together."  
  
"I wouldn't take too much time if I were you," Bill said. "John wasn't in the best shape of his life when I last saw him."   
  
A shiver ran down Millicent's back at Bill's words. "What did you do to him?" she asked, her voice revealing a slight tremor.  
  
"Nothing that can't be fixed if he is freed soon," Bill replied. "If not, well I'm afraid that Dr. Benton won't even be able to help him."  
  
Millicent thought for a moment. She was having a hard time processing all this information so quickly. Yes, John had mentioned that Dr. Benton was with him in the message. She supposed that was good news for John although admittedly not for Dr. Benton.   
  
"And hey," Bill snapped his fingers in Millicent's face to get her attention. "Do not even think for a minute of calling the cops, the FBI or anybody in law enforcement. If you do....John and Benton are both dead. You will never see your precious grandson again."  
  
"What guarantee do I have that you won't kill John even if I give you the money," Millicent asked, trying desperately to compose herself in front of this madman who was probably a killer.   
  
"I guess you will just have to trust me," Bill said with a frosty smile. "It is John's only chance."  
  
"All right," Millicent replied hesitantly. "I will get you the money." Her husband would never agree with this. He would definitely call the FBI. She didn't know about John's parents but she didn't even know where they were at the moment; somewhere out on the South Seas. They hadn't even made an appearance when their son had been stabbed. She was going to have to deal with this her own way. She knew that her husband would be furious but it was just what she had to do.   
  
"How long will it take to get the money?" asked Bill. "In unmarked bills of course."  
  
"I am not exactly sure," Millicent said. "I will try to get it to you by tomorrow." She would have to contact Henry Wellington, her close friend and financial advisor. She could trust him. He could get access to some of their Swiss accounts or liquidate assets, whatever it took to get the money as quickly as possible.   
  
"Okay then," Bill said, as he grabbed the recorder off the table. "I will contact you tomorrow afternoon. And please, no tricks and no cops. I don't think you want your grandson's blood on your hands." With that, quickly left the den, giving a mock bow to Charles on his way out. "Good day, old chap."  
  
Charles went into the den and could not help but notice Millicent Carter's pale complexion and the almost haunted look in her eyes. "Is everything all right madam?" he asked.   
  
"Yes Charles," Millicent forced a smile, trying to compose herself. "I just need to take care of some business. I will call you if I need you."   
  
Charles nodded and left the room. He knew that something was most definitely wrong but it was not his place to interfere.   
  
Millicent watched Charles leave, closing the door behind him. She sank into an overstuffed chair, finally allowing herself the luxury of tears as she buried her face in her hands. She pulled herself together after only a few minutes though. She knew that she had to be strong for John. With a trembling hand she picked up the phone to dial Henry Wellington's number.  
  
  
End of Chapter 4.  
  
  



	5. Kidnapped - Chapter 5

  
Title: Kidnapped - Part 5  
Author: Lynne Facella  
Email address: Mulderette@aol.com or Lynne1919@aol.com   
Rating: PG  
Keywords: Angst  
Spoilers: Episodes through All in the Family  
Archive: Sure, just ask so I know where it is going.  
Disclaimer: All ER characters are the property of Warner Brothers, NBC, etc., etc. (The bad guys are mine).  
Summary: Dr. Carter is held for ransom and an unwitting Dr. Benton gets dragged along for the ride.  
  
  
Dr. Robert Romano came storming through the ER, obviously a man on a mission. His eyes swept the admitting area, looking for someone to cast his wrath upon, and settled on Elizabeth Corday, who was writing on a chart at the main desk.   
  
"Lizzie!" he barked, startling Elizabeth, Chuny, and Randi and causing them all to jump.   
  
"Yes, what is it, Robert?" Elizabeth asked, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice as she continued to write.   
  
"Do you have your ex, Peter, stowed away somewhere?" he asked snidely and loudly enough for everyone to hear.   
  
Elizabeth glared back at him. "I have no idea where Dr. Benton is, Robert. Perhaps you might ask Dr. Finch."  
  
Kerry Weaver came up alongside them. "Is there some problem, Robert?" she asked, wishing he would stay up on the surgical floor. Whenever he came down to the ER, he always caused some kind of a commotion.   
  
Romano turned his attention to Kerry. "Yes actually there is a problem," he said. "Dr. Benton had a surgical procedure scheduled over an hour ago, and another surgery scheduled in 45 minutes. He is nowhere to be found. I would say that is a problem, wouldn't you?"  
  
"I'm sorry that you can't find Peter but I haven't seen him all day," said Kerry.  
  
Romano glowered at her. "Where's Finch?" he asked.   
  
"Cleo has been on the night shift for the past week," replied Kerry.  
  
"Oh so that's it..." Romano said, shaking his head knowingly. "Petey is going to be in for a rude awakening if he's going to start playing these little games."  
  
"You!" he said loudly, waving his hand in front of Randi's face. "Get me Dr. Finch's phone number now."  
  
"Asshole," said Randi under her breath as she took her time looking through the computer.   
  
"Excuse me?" asked Romano belligerently. "I didn't quite get that."  
  
"Here you go," Randi smiled sweetly and handed Romano a piece of paper with Dr. Finch's phone number written on it.   
  
Romano snatched the paper without a word of thanks and proceeded to dial the telephone. By now quite a crowd had gathered at the desk. Everyone was pretending to perform one task or another while trying not to appear as if they were eavesdropping.  
  
"Hello, Dr. Finch? This is Dr. Romano. May I speak to Dr. Benton please? Oh I see. Well when did he leave? I see. Goodbye." Romano slammed the phone down. "Supposedly Dr. Finch has not seen him. I had better not find out she is lying to me. If anybody sees Dr. Benton tell him I want to see him immediately!" With that, Romano stomped out of the ER.   
  
"What's going on here?" asked Mark, coming up behind Elizabeth and giving her an affectionate kiss on the cheek. "Romano looked like he was going to explode."  
  
"He was just being his typical, obnoxious self," replied Elizabeth, smiling up at Mark. "Evidently Peter didn't report to work today and Romano is on the warpath."   
  
"Well, I'm sure he has a good reason if he's not here."   
  
"Yes I suppose," said Elizabeth, looking a little bit worried. It really wasn't like Peter to miss surgery and even more unlikely that he wouldn't call. She tried to put it out of her mind.   
  
"Mark," asked Kerry, coming up to him. "Is John coming back today?"  
  
"Yeah, I think he's on at one," replied Mark, turning toward Kerry. "At least I haven't heard he's not coming in, so I assume he is."  
  
"Okay, that's fine, thanks," said Kerry, turning away to attend to some paperwork.   
  
"You still off at three?" Mark asked, his attention on Elizabeth once more.   
  
"Yes, as far as I know," replied Elizabeth. "I've got to run now though, I have surgery. I'll meet you in the lounge around three?"  
  
"Okay, I'll see you later" said Mark, his eyes lingering admiringly on Elizabeth as she made her way down the hall. He then turned his attention to the board and the waiting patients.   
  
  
  
  
Carter could not take his eyes off the spider as it slowly crept down the wall. He had never seen one like it. It was big, black and hairy, the kind of spider you only saw in a horror movie, but never in real life. Then, without warning, the single spider was joined by countless others. He felt his blood run cold as he watched with morbid fascination. They seemed to be multiplying, coming out of the walls, all moving towards him. Some floated down over him, hanging from their silky webs. He wanted to escape but was unable to move. He was on the verge of hysteria as the spiders hanging from the ceiling dropped onto his body and the others began to creep over him in a never-ending march. He began to scream.   
  
The sound of Carter's screams jerked Benton out of sleep. He was momentarily disoriented by the shadowy darkness of the cell, but quickly got his bearings and rushed to Carter's side. He saw immediately that Carter was in the throws of some horrific nightmare.   
  
"Get them off me! Get them off me!" Carter was screaming and thrashing about, making a swiping motion at whatever was attacking him in his dream.   
  
"Come on Carter, wake up man, its only a dream!" Benton said loudly. He grabbed Carter's arms so he wouldn't hurt himself or open up his wound. "Come on! Wake up!"  
  
Carter finally awoke, breathing heavily, and stared at Benton with fever glazed eyes. "Don't touch me!" he demanded in a hoarse voice. He glanced around the cell and started to get up. "I've gotta get out of here."  
  
"Whoa. Come on Carter. You can't get up," said Benton, gently but firmly holding Carter down.   
  
"Let go of me!" he cried, his voice sounding on the verge of tears. "I want to get out of here now. Let me go. Please let me out of here!"   
  
Carter's face was dripping with perspiration, as he tried to escape Benton's hold. "Why are you doing this to me?" he asked with an accusatory tone. "Why are you keeping me here?"  
  
"We'll get out of here soon, Carter," Benton grabbed the bottle of Advil, shook out four tablets, and poured some water into a cup. "Here. Take these. They'll help you feel better."  
  
"No, I don't want them," Carter moaned.   
  
Benton cursed himself for having gone to sleep. He had awoken a few times and checked on Carter, but he had been sleeping peacefully and Benton had drifted off again.   
  
"Come on, Carter. Please." Benton gently lifted Carter's head to get the pills into his mouth.   
  
"I don't want them! Leave me alone. You're trying to poison me!" Carter ranted nonsensically. "I bet you're in on it with them. You've always hated me, ever since you found out my family was rich."  
  
"Come on man, you have to take these," Benton felt like he was wrestling with an enraged child as Carter struggled against him. His strength wore out very quickly though and Benton was able to pop the pills into Carter's mouth and managed to get Carter to drink some water. Benton then ripped the sleeves off his shirt and drenched them to make cool compresses. He used one to bathe Carter's face and upper torso. The other he placed on Carter's forehead. Carter threw it off a few times, mumbling that he didn't want it, but Benton kept replacing it, talking in reassuring tones, until at last, Carter fell into an exhausted sleep.   
  
Benton kept watch over Carter, periodically re-soaking the cool compresses. Carter tossed and turned at first, but finally settled down and appeared to be resting comfortably. Benton sighed deeply as he chewed on one of the beef jerky sticks and then decided to eat one of the chocolate bars. He was starving. He knew he had to try to keep his strength up for both his and Carter's sake. After he ate, he took the flashlight and explored the room carefully, seeing if there was something he had missed before, some possible way for them to escape. He prodded the walls, which were solid, and shook the door, which did not budge. He searched every inch of the floor, on the outside chance that there could be a key, but found nothing.   
  
Totally discouraged, Benton sat back down near Carter. He started to think about Reece and the very real possibility that he would never see his son again. Reece was more important than anything in the world to him. He couldn't bear the thought that he had held him in his arms for the last time. He prayed that their luck would change soon.  
  
  
  
  
Mark sighed wearily and headed for the lounge to wait for Elizabeth. A school bus accident had made for a very hectic afternoon. The ER had been filled with upset and crying children. Fortunately, none of the injuries had been too serious, but it had still made for quite a day. Mark poured himself a cup of coffee and plopped himself onto the sofa. He leaned his head back and let his thoughts drift pleasantly to what he and Elizabeth would do with the rest of the day. He had almost begun to doze off when he heard the door open. He looked up expectantly but it was a frazzled looking Kerry, not Elizabeth, who came into the room.  
  
"Hey Kerry," he said, "Some crazy afternoon, wasn't it?"   
  
Kerry's face was very serious as she made her way over to Mark and sat down beside him. "Mark," she began. "I'm very concerned about John. He never made it in this afternoon and he isn't answering his phone."  
  
"Really?" Mark asked, immediately understanding Kerry's concern. "That's definitely not like Carter."  
  
"No, it isn't like him at all," agreed Kerry. "I hate to bother you, especially if its nothing, but its impossible for me to leave right now. Could you possibly stop by his place to check on him?"  
  
Just then Elizabeth entered the room. "Sorry I'm a bit late," she explained, "I was with a patient in Recovery."   
  
"It's okay," Mark mumbled distractedly.  
  
"What's wrong?" asked Elizabeth, noting the distressed expressions on both Mark and Kerry's faces.   
  
"Carter never reported for work today," replied Mark. "Kerry asked if we could stop by and check on him."  
  
"Oh of course we will, Kerry," said Elizabeth. She tried to push away the disturbing thoughts that were starting to enter her mind. "You know, Peter never showed up today either."  
  
Mark and Kerry glanced at each other apprehensively. "It's probably just a coincidence," said Mark slowly. "There could be any number of reasons why they're not here."  
  
"Yes, well, I suppose we'd better go," said Elizabeth uneasily.  
  
"Mark, please call me right away when you get there," Kerry said anxiously. She had a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She prayed that John had just taken his phone off the hook or there was some other simple explanation. Maybe he was still sick and had just felt too lousy to call in. She tried to make herself believe this was the case.   
  
"I will, Kerry," Mark said as he turned to leave the room, his arm encircling Elizabeth's waist. "Try not to worry."  
  
Kerry watched as the door closed behind them and a feeling of dread came over her. Somehow she just knew that something was terribly, terribly wrong.   
  
  
  
  
Mark and Elizabeth were relatively silent during the drive to Carter's apartment. Both were afraid to voice the thoughts that they had. As Mark drove down Carter's street, Elizabeth suddenly gasped.   
  
"Mark, that's Peter's car," she said, indicating a car that was parked a short distance from the apartment building.   
  
"Are you sure?" asked Mark, knowing that she was.   
  
"Yes, I'm sure," she murmured as a chill ran down her back.   
  
"Carter's jeep is here too," Mark said glumly as he parked his van in front of the building. He suddenly felt very afraid of what they were going to find. When they got out of the van, Elizabeth came over to him, grasped his hand and clutched it tightly. He had no words to reassure her as they approached the building.   
  
Mark rang the buzzer for the building manager, Dan Coveney, and fortunately he was in. He was a pleasant gray-haired man in his early 60s. After Mark had explained the situation, he agreed to let them into Carter's apartment. "Dr. Carter's a nice fellow," Dan said amiably as they rode up in the elevator. "I sure do hope he's okay."  
  
"We hope so too," Mark said grimly.  
  
After what seemed an interminable wait, the elevator stopped. The trio got out on Carter's floor and walked toward Carter's apartment. Elizabeth felt like her legs were made of jelly as they approached. She had a terrible feeling of foreboding about what they were going to find. She had seen too many news reports of the horrific things that happened in the world to be optimistic. She clenched Mark's hand even tighter.   
  
"Do you want to wait out here?" Mark asked Elizabeth gently as Dan fumbled for the right key.   
  
"No. I'll go with you," Elizabeth stated, a slight waver in her voice.   
  
"Okay."  
  
They watched as Dan slowly opened the door. The apartment was dark. He flicked on the light and the three made their way into the living room. The room appeared undisturbed.  
  
"I'm going to check the bedroom," said Mark.   
  
"I'll check the bathroom," said Dan.   
  
Elizabeth held her breath as she followed Mark to the bedroom. "A blast of cold air hit them as he opened the door. "Jeez it's freezing in here," said Mark. He walked over and turned off the air conditioner. Carter's bed was unmade and rumpled and a box of tissues was on the night table.   
  
"There's nobody here!" called Dan, from the bathroom.   
  
"What about the closet?" Elizabeth asked tremulously.  
  
Mark walked over to the closet and cautiously opened the door. "Nothing," he said, breathing a huge sigh of relief. "They're not here. Thank God."  
  
"But where on earth are they?" asked Elizabeth.  
  
"I don't know," replied Mark, shaking his head. "I wish I did..."  
  
  
End Part 5  
  



	6. Kidnapped - Chapter 6a

Title: Kidnapped - Part 6a  
Author: Lynne Facella  
Email address: Mulderette@a... or Lynne1919@a...   
Rating: PG (language)  
Keywords: Angst  
Spoilers: Episodes through All in the Family  
Archive: Sure, just ask so I know where it is going.  
Disclaimer: All ER characters are the property of Warner Brothers,   
NBC, etc., etc. (The bad guys are mine).  
Summary: Dr. Carter is held for ransom and an unwitting Dr. Benton   
gets dragged along for the ride.  
  
  
After making a brief call to Kerry, Mark and Elizabeth sped back to the hospital. Kerry was anxiously waiting at the front desk when they arrived back in the ER.   
  
"Let's go talk in the lounge," Kerry said discreetly as Mark and Elizabeth approached her.   
  
Dave, who was on the phone awaiting some lab results, scrutinized the three doctors as they walked towards the lounge. "Hey what's up with the big powwow?" he asked Luka who was erasing his name from the board. '  
  
"I do not know, Dave," Luka remarked. "I do not really think it concerns us though, do you?"  
  
Dave shot Luka an annoyed glance. "Just curious man, no big deal. Yes, I'm still waiting," he said to the voice on the phone.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
In the lounge, Kerry was beside herself. "No signs at all?" she asked. "Nothing?"  
  
Mark sighed. "Nothing Kerry. Both their cars were parked outside. Everything seemed to be in place. They were just nowhere to be found."  
  
"It was really very eerie," commented Elizabeth. She was very shaken by the fact that Carter and Peter were missing.   
  
"So what should we do?" asked Mark. "Should we call the police?"  
  
"I don't know, Mark," Kerry said hesitantly. "I'm not sure that's necessarily our place. Maybe we should contact their families first."   
  
"All right," Mark nodded in agreement. "Maybe we should go in person? It seems kind of cold to blindside them with a telephone call."   
  
"I could go see Peter's sister," Elizabeth volunteered.   
  
"That would be good, Elizabeth. Thank you," Mark said, giving her a small smile.   
  
"Mark, I would like to be the one to talk to John's grandparents," Kerry said. "Maybe they can get in touch with John's parents. Do you mind terribly covering me here for a bit?"  
  
"No, of course I don't mind, Kerry," Mark replied. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the keys to his van and handed them off to Elizabeth. "Good luck," he said softly, giving her a brief kiss.   
  
"Thank you, Mark," said Elizabeth. She placed her hand on Mark's cheek, momentarily letting it linger, just grateful that he was safe. "I'll be in touch."   
  
Mark watched the two very different red-haired women walk out of the lounge. He then took a moment to gather his thoughts and made his way back out to the ER.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Elizabeth rang the doorbell of Jackie's house one last time. Obviously no one was home. Discouraged, she turned away from the door and was met by a woman standing on the sidewalk, staring at Elizabeth suspiciously. "Can I help you with something?" the woman asked.  
  
"Perhaps you can," said Elizabeth, with a tentative smile. "I'm looking for Jackie. Do you know when she'll be home?"  
  
"They're on vacation. I've never seen you around here before."  
  
"Um, well no, I don't suppose you have," replied Elizabeth. She pulled out her medical ID card and showed it to the woman. "I'm Elizabeth Corday, a physician at County General Hospital. I work with Jackie's brother, Peter."  
  
"Did something happen to him?" the woman asked with concern.   
  
"No...as far as I know, Peter's fine," Elizabeth answered vaguely. "You wouldn't know any way for me to reach Jackie, would you?"  
  
"No, no, they're driving down to Disney World. They'll be gone for two weeks." The woman's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I'm sure she'll be in touch with Peter though. He knew they were going on vacation."  
  
Elizabeth thought quickly. "I'm sure he did," she said, smiling brightly. "It's just that Dr. Benton is being presented a surgical award and we're planning kind of a surprise party for him. I suppose it can wait until Jackie returns."  
  
"Well I guess it will have to," the woman replied. "That's nice about Peter's award. He's a very smart man."   
  
"Yes...yes he is. Well I won't take up any more of your time." Elizabeth forced a smile as she made her way back to Mark's van. "Thank you very much for your help.   
  
Elizabeth fumbled with the keys before she finally managed to get the door unlocked. She slid into the van and noticed that her hands were trembling as she placed them on the wheel. She took a few moments to compose herself and then started driving back towards the hospital.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Kerry could not help being spellbound as she turned her car up the long driveway of John's grandparents' mansion. Of course she knew that John came from a wealthy family, but it was hard to really fathom the extent of this wealth until you actually saw it with your own eyes. Kerry got out of her car and made her way painstakingly up the front steps, pausing halfway up to rest her throbbing leg. Finally she made it to the door and leaning heavily on her crutch, rang the doorbell.  
  
A butler came to the door almost immediately. "Hello. Can I help you?" he asked.   
  
"Yes," said Kerry, giving the butler a tight-lipped smile. "I'm Kerry Weaver, the Chief of the ER over at County General. I was wondering if I might have a word with Mr. or Mrs. Carter. It's quite urgent."  
  
"Please come in," said the butler and he directed Kerry to a seat in the foyer. I'll inform madam that you are here."   
  
Kerry sat nervously waiting for the butler to return. She looked around the opulent splendor of the mansion with its high cathedral ceilings and walls lined with beautiful works of art. She had to wonder, with John growing up in this world of wealth and privilege, what exactly had compelled him to become a doctor. Once again she started to dwell on John. Wherever he was, she hoped that he was unharmed and would remain that way. Her thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of Millicent Carter. Kerry rose to greet her.   
  
"Hello, Dr. Weaver," Millicent said. "What can I do for you?"  
  
"I'm sorry to come unannounced like this," replied Kerry, dreading the news she was going to deliver.   
  
"Please come into the living room," Millicent said, knowing full well why Dr. Weaver had come. What she did not know, however, was exactly how much Dr. Weaver actually knew about John's disappearance.   
  
Kerry followed Millicent into the living room and the two women took a seat on the sofa.   
  
"Can I get you anything to drink?" asked Millicent.  
  
"No thank you, I'm fine. "Kerry clasped her hands anxiously in her lap. "Mrs. Carter, I'm going to come right to the point. I'm afraid I have some rather disturbing news. John did not report to work today and we have been unable to locate him. Another doctor, Peter Benton, is also missing and his car has been found in front of John's apartment building."   
  
She looked expectantly at Millicent, waiting for some kind of a reaction. Millicent sat perfectly still, not reacting at all to what Kerry had just said.   
  
"I'm sorry," said Kerry, confused by Millicent's lack of response. "But you don't seem to be very surprised by this. Do you know something about John's disappearance? Do you know where he is?"   
  
"No," Millicent shook her head slowly, wondering if she could trust this woman. She felt compelled to talk to someone about this abhorrent situation. "Dr. Weaver," she began hesitantly. "I would like to share something with you, but I need your word that you will not go to the police with what I am going to tell you."  
  
Kerry felt her whole body tense as she braced herself for whatever it was Millicent was going to say. "You have my word," she said softly.   
  
"John and Dr. Benton have been abducted," Millicent stated. "They are being held for ransom."  
  
"They've been kidnapped?" The words struck Kerry like a blow as the color drained from her face.   
  
"Dr. Weaver, are you all right?" Millicent asked in alarm.  
  
Kerry quickly pulled herself together. "Yes, yes, I'm fine," she said though her expression remained troubled. "Who abducted them?"  
  
"I don't know." Millicent fought to keep her voice steady. "A man came to the house this morning. He had...he had a tape with John's voice on it. He demanded fifteen million dollars for their return. I've been making calls all day to get the money together. That man...that man implied that John had been hurt." Millicent's voice caught. "I just want him back safely."  
  
Kerry took Millicent's hand and patted it comfortingly, trying to absorb all that she had just heard. "You're not going to notify the police?" she asked.  
  
"No," Millicent shook her head adamantly. "He said they would be killed if I do. I'm not going to take that chance. I could never forgive myself if anything happened."  
  
Kerry mulled that over doubtfully. There was nothing to prevent the men from killing John and Peter this way either. It seemed like a lose-lose situation. Kerry didn't say this out loud though. She tried to give a reassuring look to Millicent. "Let's hope they keep their word. When are you supposed to give them the money?"  
  
"He said that he would call tomorrow afternoon."  
  
Kerry nodded thoughtfully. "Does anyone else know about this? Your husband or John's parents?"  
  
"No. My husband is out of the country on a business trip. Millicent paused. "I did not feel comfortable telling him what had happened over the phone. He would not agree with the decision I have made, Dr. Weaver. Perhaps you don't either, but I feel this is my best chance to get John back alive. The money is of no consequence. I just want my grandson home."  
  
Kerry could see how very deeply Millicent cared for John. "What about John's parents?"  
  
"They are unreachable at this time," Millicent said shortly.  
  
Just then the butler reappeared. "What is it, Charles," asked Millicent.   
  
"I'm sorry to interrupt you madam, but Mr. Wellington is on the phone."  
  
"Thank you, Charles. Please tell him I'll be right there." She gracefully rose from the sofa. "I'm sorry, Dr. Weaver. I have to take this call. It involves getting the money for John's release."  
  
"I understand." Kerry grabbed her crutch and used it to get to her feet. She handed Millicent a card. "Please page me right away with any news. I'll be praying for John and Peter's safe return."  
  
"Thank you. I will do that," Millicent replied as she walked with Kerry to the front door. "I appreciate you coming, Dr. Weaver. John is very lucky to have people who are so concerned about him."  
  
"A lot of people care about him," Kerry replied, squeezing Millicent's hand encouragingly. "Call me if you hear anything, or if you just want to talk."  
  
"Thank you," Millicent whispered. She watched as Kerry made her way down the stairs and then briskly walked to the den to take Henry's phone call.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  



	7. Kidnapped - Chapter 6b

Kidnapped - Part 6b  
  
  
Bill, Frank and Tony sat in O'Leary's Pub drinking beers and munching on sandwiches. It was only four in the afternoon, but Bill had decided that grabbing an early dinner might help calm their nerves and kill some time. The day had been interminably long. Once he had spoken to Mrs. Carter, it was just a matter of waiting. He couldn't help feeling some guilt over Carter and Benton. He had almost considered going back to see how the kid was doing, but had finally decided this was a bad idea.   
  
"Man, pretty soon I'm gonna be eating at some fucking fine restaurants," Frank said. "I'm gonna order stuff like caviar and lobster and Dom Perignon, all that fancy stuff the rich people eat. Yeah, it'll be great. I'll take a different broad to dinner every night."  
  
"Yeah, that sounds great," said Tony. "Me, I'm gonna move out to the West Coast, maybe California. I hate the snow. I'll buy tickets to see the Lakers and the Dodgers. I'll get really great seats and drink all the beer I want."  
  
'A fool and his money are soon parted,' Bill thought to himself as he listened to how Frank and Tony planned to blow their share of the money. He was going to be very careful with his portion. He would invest some in Real Estate and mutual funds. Then he would travel. He would finally be able to visit the places he had only been able to dream about.  
  
The waitress came over to their table. "Can I get you gentlemen anything else?" she asked with a pleasant smile.   
  
"Honey what I'd like to get from you ain't on the menu," Frank said, leering at the waitress.  
  
"Shut up, Frank," Bill said, giving the waitress an apologetic look. "Please excuse my friend."  
  
The waitress gave Bill a tense smile as she dropped the bill on their table and hurried away.   
  
"I don't need you making excuses for me," Frank said glaring at Bill. "You and your high and mighty attitude."   
  
"Come on Frankie, he didn't mean nothing by it," said Tony, trying to make peace.   
  
"Listen," said Bill staring icily at Frank. "It's obvious that we don't like each other very much, but we just have to get along for one more day. After that, as far as I'm concerned, we never have to see each other again."   
  
"Sounds great to me," Frank said. He reached into his wallet for some money and tossed it carelessly on the table. "Let's get the Hell out of here." He got to his feet and angrily stalked out of the pub.   
  
"I'm going to go see if I can calm him down," said Tony. He put down his share of the money and went to join Frank outside.   
  
The waitress came back to the table. "All set?" she asked.   
  
"Yeah. Sorry again about Frank's remark," Bill said sincerely.   
  
"Hey don't sweat it," the waitress said as she picked up the money and began clearing the table. "We get his kind all the time. You get used to it after a while."   
  
"Yeah, well you shouldn't have to," said Bill. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, which he handed to the waitress. "For your trouble...Sheila," he said, reading her nametag. "Is there a last name to go along with that?"  
  
"Murphy, Sheila Murphy," she replied. "But that really isn't necessary mister."  
  
"I insist," said Bill as he firmly pressed the money into her hand."  
  
"Thank you. Sheila gave Bill a grateful smile.  
  
"It's nothing. You have a good evening." As Bill left the restaurant he decided that he would send an anonymous check to Sheila Murphy, enough money to give her some happiness, allow her to quit her waitress job if she so desired, make her life easier.   
  
Frank and Tony stood waiting outside the van as Bill came out of the restaurant.   
  
"Come on," Bill said as he unlocked the van door. "We might as well just head on back to the motel."  
  
Frank shot Bill a dirty look. "It's way too early for that."  
  
Bill glared back at him. "Does it really fucking matter?" We'll be leaving town tomorrow morning. Can't you just hang low for the rest of the day?"   
  
"No I can't," Frank replied in a nasty tone. "Why don't I just drop you off at the motel and Tony and I can go out and get a beer or something."  
  
"Fine," Bill agreed wearily. He wasn't really in the mood to quarrel. He was just grateful that with any luck at all, he would never have to look at Frank's face again after tomorrow. "Just don't do anything stupid like shooting off your mouth to anyone."  
  
"Fuck you! I'm not an idiot!"  
  
"Can you two just chill out?" Tony asked, tired of listening to them bicker.  
  
The rest of the ride to the motel was silent except for the songs blaring from the radio. Bill pulled into the motel parking lot and handed over the keys to Tony. "I hope you use some common sense." He gave Frank a long look as he got out of the van and started walking towards his room.  
  
"I hope you use some common sense," Frank repeated in a high-pitched voice, mocking Bill. He grabbed the keys out of Tony's hand. "I'm driving," he said as he went over to the driver's side of the van.  
  
"I can drive," Tony protested to no avail.   
  
"No, no...I'm gonna drive," Frank said with a gleam in his eye.   
  
"Where are we going?" asked Tony. "We could always go bowling or go shoot some pool."   
  
"No. I thought we could pay a couple of friends a little visit," said Frank with a snicker.   
  
Tony was absently gazing out the window when the meaning of Frank's words finally registered with him. He glanced over at Frank uneasily.   
  
"Come on Frankie," he implored. "Why don't we just go to a bar, watch the ball game and relax?"   
  
"Don't you worry, Tony," Frank said cackling. "When we pay our little visit, it will relax me just fine.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Benton sat silently, keeping vigil over Carter. He had been sleeping very restlessly amidst frequent fits of coughing, which had Benton concerned. He wished he could think of something to do. He hated just sitting in this cell, waiting, with no idea if anyone was ever going to come to free them.   
  
He focused his attention back on Carter who had just let out a little moan and was now looking bleary eyed at Benton. "Guess we're still here," Carter murmured softly.   
  
"Yeah," Benton gently felt Carter's forehead. "How ya doing?"   
  
"Thirsty," Carter mumbled, still struggling to become more alert.   
  
Benton hurriedly grabbed one of the water containers and poured Carter a drink. "Here you go," he said. He supported Carter's upper body and helped him drink. Carter drank some water and then laid back down, the small effort having totally exhausted him.   
  
"Are you in a lot of pain?" Benton asked, noting how pale Carter looked. Every movement the younger man made seemed to cause him to wince or grimace.   
  
"I can handle it," Carter answered weakly.  
  
"Yeah you're a real tough guy, aren't you," Benton commented with a small smile. He wanted to look at Carter's shoulder but decided it was better not to disturb it, as he had nothing at all to redress the wound with.   
  
"Dr. Benton?" Carter asked. "Can I ask you something?"  
  
"Yeah, sure. What is it, Carter?" Benton asked. He noted that Carter was breathing very heavily. He hated this feeling of helplessness that he had. Carter belonged in the hospital and there was nothing Benton could do about it.   
  
"Why...why were you at my apartment?"  
  
"Huh?" Benton gave Carter a puzzled look.  
  
"The other night...why were you there? Why did you go to my apartment?"  
  
"Mark told me you had gone home sick," Benton said shrugging. "I don't know. I just had a bad feeling about it. I felt like something was wrong, so I decided to check on you."  
  
Carter looked at Benton, silently absorbing this information. "I bet you're sorry now," he finally uttered with a look of despair, closing his eyes.  
  
"Carter! Carter look at me," Benton demanded in the same commanding tone he had used hundreds of times when Carter had been his student.   
  
Half-heartedly, Carter opened his eyes, meeting Benton's gaze.  
  
"The only think I'm sorry about," Benton began, looking at Carter intently, "is that you are injured and I can't do a damn thing to help you. I'm sorry we are in this situation, Carter, but I am not sorry I went to your apartment. I am not sorry that I'm here with you now."  
  
"Thank you," Carter said, touched by Benton's words. Although Benton didn't wear his heart on his sleeve, Carter did know how much his former teacher cared about him. It had been made very clear to him after the stabbing.   
  
"I hope that someone will come for you." Carter was suddenly overcome by another fit of coughing which left him breathless by the time it abated.   
  
"Carter are you okay?" Benton asked, unable to hide the worried look on his face.   
  
Carter nodded, still trying to catch his breath.   
  
"Listen man, someone will come for *both* of us," Benton said, gazing at Carter intently. "You'll be okay, Carter. You have to be."  
  
"Sure," Carter nodded again and wrapped the blanket tighter around his body as a chill ran through him. He didn't want to bring Benton down, but he could tell he was getting worse. His strength was slowly ebbing away, everything hurt. He still had a bullet in him and for all he knew, the wound was becoming infected also. He didn't want to die, especially not here in this tomb-like cell, but he was afraid he was going to.   
  
Benton sighed. Carter looked extremely young, vulnerable and scared to death. He wished he could think of some words to reassure him. Carter was a doctor though and he knew the score. Benton also didn't believe he was letting on just how bad he was feeling. He picked up the bottle of ibuprofen and shook three into his hand. It was hard to judge time-wise if Carter was due for more, but Benton didn't want him to start burning up again if it could possibly be avoided.   
  
"Carter, can you take these please?" Benton asked. He once again helped him to sit up and Carter obediently swallowed the pills.   
  
"Thanks," Carter murmured drowsily. He was about ready to drop off again.  
  
"You get some rest, Carter," Benton said, patting his arm gently.  
  
Suddenly, Carter and Benton were startled by the sounds of muffled voices coming from the hallway. Next, they could hear the sound of a key in the lock. They watched the door with a combination of apprehension and hope. Their hearts sank though when a hand waving a gun appeared followed by Frank's evil smile.   
  
"Hello boys," he said, chuckling. "Are we having fun yet?"  
  
  
End of Part 6  
  
  



	8. Kidnapped - Chapter 7

Title: Kidnapped - Part 7  
Author: Lynne Facella  
Email address: Mulderette@a... or Lynne1919@a...   
Rating: PG (language, violence)  
Keywords: JC, PB angst  
Spoilers: Episodes through All in the Family  
Archive: Sure, just ask so I know where it is going.  
Disclaimer: All ER characters are the property of Warner Brothers, NBC, etc., etc. (The bad guys are mine).  
Summary: Dr. Carter is held for ransom and an unwitting Dr. Benton gets dragged along for the ride.  
  
  
"You know, when I was sick with the flu, the Chief wouldn't even let me leave a little bit early." Dave was behind the desk, about three-quarters through a double shift, complaining to anyone who would listen. "How many days has Carter been off?"  
  
"I'm sure John must be pretty sick not to be here," Jing-Mei said as she signed off on a chart.  
  
"Yeah well I was pretty sick that day too," Dave protested. "Did anybody have any sympathy for me? No, they didn't. Now I'm stuck working extra shifts. I never get any sleep. When is he coming back anyway?"  
  
Mark gritted his teeth. He knew Dave had no clue what was going on, but he was getting on his nerves. "We're slow right now, Malucci. Why don't you try to get a little sleep? We'll wake you if we need you." He tried to keep the annoyance he felt out of his voice.   
  
"Yeah?" Dave gave Mark a surprised look. "Okay, thanks. I'll do that."  
  
He went off in search of an empty exam room, but finding none, went into the lounge and curled up on the couch.   
  
"Kerry's still not back?" Elizabeth came up behind Mark, rubbing his back gently.  
  
"No. Not yet." Mark took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I wonder what's going on?"  
  
"I don't know," Elizabeth murmured. "Robert has been upstairs hollering about Peter not showing up. He's ready to fire him."  
  
"He's just mouthing off," Mark replied. "Even Romano should know that Peter wouldn't do this for no good reason."  
  
"Yes, well you know how Robert is."  
  
Mark was about to reply when he noticed Kerry hurrying towards them and she didn't look particularly happy. "Kerry's back."  
  
"I need to talk to you in the lounge." Kerry's voice had a sense of urgency as she hurried past them. Mark and Elizabeth exchanged uneasy glances and quickly followed behind her.  
  
They went into the seemingly empty lounge and huddled in a little group by the door.   
  
"I spoke with John's grandmother," Kerry began. "I trust that what I tell you will not leave this room."  
  
Mark and Elizabeth nodded. "Of course," replied Mark.   
  
Kerry took a deep breath. "It seems that John and Peter have been kidnapped."  
  
"Kidnapped?" asked Elizabeth incredulously. "Why? By whom?"  
  
"Money. John was the target and somehow Peter must have gotten involved also. John's grandmother is getting the money together and will deliver it to them tomorrow. She doesn't want the police involved."  
  
"Whoa Kerry," said Mark, shaking his head. "Do you think that's a good idea? I think the police should be called."  
  
"I think so too, Mark, but it isn't our call. Mrs. Carter believes that they will kill John and Peter if the police are notified and I'm not going to go against her wishes. She's worried enough as it is. Supposedly John has already been hurt."  
  
Mark sighed. "I still don't think it's very smart."  
  
Kerry grabbed Mark's arm. "Mark, promise me you will not contact anyone. I gave her my word that we wouldn't."   
  
"I promise, Kerry. I said that I wouldn't and I won't. It doesn't mean I have to like it though.   
  
Kerry nodded. "Why don't you two go home," she said softly. "I'm not on for very much longer. Thank you Mark for covering for me."  
  
"Are you sure?" asked Mark, giving Kerry a doubtful look. "I don't mind staying."   
  
"I'm sure, Mark." Kerry managed to force a small smile. "Go. You've been here long enough today."  
  
"You'll let us know if you hear any news?" Elizabeth asked anxiously.  
  
"I will. I'll call you the minute I hear anything." Kerry watched as the door shut behind Mark and Elizabeth. She took a shuddering breath as tears overflowed and limped across the room to sit for a few minutes and compose herself before going back to work.   
  
As she sat down, she was stunned to see Dave, stretched out on the couch, staring at her. "You okay, Chief?" He sat up, giving Kerry a wary look.   
  
"Malucci! What are you doing here?" Kerry snapped as she angrily swiped at the tears on her face.   
  
Dave shrugged. "Dr. Greene said I could try and catch a little shut eye."  
  
"You heard?"  
  
"Um, yeah." Dave saw that Kerry was about to bite his head off and quickly sprang to his own defense. "I didn't think anything of it when you first came in and then after you started talking I couldn't exactly pop up and say I was here. I didn't know what to do."  
  
"So you listened," Kerry finished for him. She wasn't really mad at Dave. She was just upset about the whole situation. She wanted it to be over with and John and Peter safely returned. "Dave. You have to promise that you will not breathe a word of what you heard in here today, not to anybody. I mean it."   
  
"I promise, Chief. I won't say anything," Dave said sincerely. He already felt badly that he had been whining about Carter earlier. He was a friend and he would never do anything to endanger his life.   
  
They sat for a few moments in silence and Dave got to his feet. "I think I'm going to get back to work. I don't think I'd be able to sleep now anyway." He started to go, then turned to Kerry and gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Chief. They'll be okay."  
  
"I hope you're right," Kerry said softly. "I hope you're right."  
  
******************************************************************  
  
Frank opened the cell door and swaggered into the cell. Tony followed behind, but hung back and stood guarding the door, a tense expression on his face. Frank, however, was smiling jovially. "You're looking fit, Dr. Benton," he said mockingly. "Perhaps prison life agrees with you."  
  
Furious, Benton started to rise from the floor. Frank aimed his gun quickly. "Just give me a reason," he said coldly. "You sit down. Now."  
  
Frank knelt down beside Carter, smiling maliciously. "How ya doing, Dr. Carter? I'm so very sorry that I shot you. It was an impulse reaction." He paused before speaking again, almost in a whisper. "I wasn't thinking. It's so easy when you have a gun in your hand...just one little squeeze of the trigger and then bang!" he waved the gun at Carter, causing him to flinch.   
  
"Why don't you leave him the Hell alone?" Benton snarled, desperately trying to get Frank's attention off of Carter and onto himself.   
  
"Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you, Dr. Benton?" Frank said. "I'm afraid my life's goal isn't to please you though. Sorry."  
  
Benton glared at the man, mentally weighing his options. If only Carter was in better shape, they could just make a move and try to escape. He couldn't do anything against two guns though...the odds of himself or Carter getting killed was just too high.   
  
"So Dr. Carter," Frank turned his attention back to the young doctor. "For a rich son of a gun, you really don't have a heck of a lot of luck do you?"  
  
Carter shifted uncomfortably. He felt lousy enough without this jerk harassing him and he could see that Dr. Benton was on the verge of losing it. He wished this guy would just go away.  
  
"No, you don't have any luck at all," Frank said musingly. "You know... I know what happened to you. Valentine's Day wasn't it?"  
  
"Shut up," Benton said menacingly.   
  
"Don't you tell me to shut up again." Frank turned to Benton with a hostile look. "If you do, I'll blow your friend's face off."   
  
Benton sat back. Every one of his nerves was on edge. The guy at the door wasn't saying anything, but this asshole had obviously come back here only for the sheer pleasure of tormenting Carter. He was one sick bastard.   
  
"Yes...." Frank said smiling as he reached over and patted Carter's head indulgently. "You were all over the news, you and that pretty medical student who was murdered. She was lovely. You must have felt very bad about what happened."   
  
Benton watched helplessly as Carter's eyes started to glaze over. He looked like he was burning up again and was obviously becoming caught up in what this guy was saying. "Carter...Carter don't listen to him man."   
  
"Yes it was really a shame. You were her supervisor, weren't you?"   
  
Carter nodded, unable to keep the memories at bay as they came flooding back. He saw Lucy lying on the floor, her blood everywhere, and that terrified look on her face. He knew he would never forget that look on Lucy's face for as long as he lived.   
  
"I never really understood what happened," Frank said, clearly enjoying the young man's distress. "I guess you didn't really do a very good job diagnosing that man, did you? Then you left him alone with that poor, unfortunate girl."  
  
Frank leaned over, close to Carter's face. Benton started to move towards him, but Tony cocked the trigger of his gun warningly. "I can only imagine the horrible pain she felt as that man stabbed her over and over and over again. She must have been in agony."  
  
"No.," Carter moaned as he closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to fight against the terrifying images in his head of what Lucy must have gone through.   
  
"You are one sick fuck," Benton couldn't keep it in any longer. He was being torn up watching this guy play with Carter's mind.   
  
"Excuse me?" Frank looked at Benton with amusement.   
  
"You're getting your jollies out of playing with a sick, defenseless kid," Benton said in disgust, shaking his head slowly. "I can't even begin to imagine how you get pleasure out of that. It's twisted."   
  
"Oh well, sue me," Frank replied. "Maybe if granny could have been a little quicker getting the money together, we wouldn't have had to resort to this kind of thing for entertainment."  
  
"Carter's grandmother is getting the money?" Benton couldn't help asking.  
  
"I didn't see the old biddy personally, but yeah. Supposedly she'll be handing it over tomorrow afternoon."  
  
"And then you'll let someone know where we are?" Benton asked quietly. He felt a surge of hope even though he knew nothing was stopping these two from blowing them away.  
  
Frank just smiled, deliberately choosing to leave Benton's question unanswered. Then suddenly, without warning, he carefully aimed his gun and pulled the trigger. One of the water containers exploded sending water cascading out onto the floor. Laughing, Frank repeated his action, shooting another container into smithereens. This one was close to Carter and the water drenched the blanket he was lying on. "As you can see, I'm quite the expert marksman," he said jovially.   
  
"Damn you!" Without hesitation, Benton struggled to pick Carter up to get him off of the soaking wet blanket. Carter groaned loudly as a severe pain ripped through his shoulder with the sudden movement. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry Carter," Benton murmured. He awkwardly carried him to a dry spot in the cell and put him back down as carefully as possible.   
  
"You are a real bastard." Benton spoke each word slowly and deliberately. "I hope you burn in Hell."  
  
"You're so dramatic, Dr. Benton," Frank said, chuckling as he looked pointedly at Carter. "Anyone can see he's not long for this world. I should do him a favor and put him out of his misery."  
  
It was the last straw. Benton had finally reached his limit. He lunged at Frank and head-butted him, sending both men tumbling down. The gun clattered to the floor. Frank tried to grab for it, but Benton proved quicker reaching it first. He backed away from Frank, the gun firmly in his hand. "Maybe I should just blow you away," Benton whispered, looking at Frank with hate-filled eyes.   
  
"I'd put that down if I were you, doc," Benton turned around and was dismayed to find Tony standing over Carter, his gun aimed at Carter's head. "Drop it."  
  
Benton hesitated. "How do I know you won't just shoot him anyhow if I drop it?"  
  
"I guess you're just going to have to trust me," said Tony as he increased the pressure on the trigger. "But if you don't drop it, I *will* shoot him."  
  
Benton bent over and placed the gun down. Frank, who was still lying on the floor after his tussle with Benton, grabbed it quickly. "Do it Tony!" he said, as he got to his feet angrily. "Blow his damn head off. I'll take care of this one." He shoved Benton hard against the wall. "Though actually, I suppose if we kill him and let you live, you'll suffer all the more, won't you?" he sneered.   
  
Benton ignored Frank and looked over at Tony. "Don't do it man," he pleaded. "You don't really want a murder rap, do you? He hasn't done a thing to you. He doesn't deserve that."  
  
Tony stared back at Benton for a few moments and then finally relaxed his arm, no longer aiming the gun at Carter. "Come on Frankie, let's get out of here." He really didn't want any part of killing this kid. He was beginning to be sorry he had taken part in this caper, or at least sorry that he had chosen Frankie to be involved in it. Bill was right...the guy was nothing but trouble.   
  
"If you're not going to do it, I will." Frank turned towards Benton, giving him an icy look. "This will be your fault big man. You can sit here in this cell until you rot and know that this will be your fault."  
  
Benton's heart went into his throat as Frank aimed the gun at Carter.   
  
"Frankie don't," Tony said, putting his hand on the gun and pushing it away. "You're not a killer, Frankie. Please...let's go."   
  
"What's the matter with you, Tony?"  
  
"What's the matter with you?" Tony shot back. "We came into this for the money, Frankie. Since when did you become so interested in killing people? What are you torturing this kid for anyhow?"  
  
"Because I can," Frank stated. "Fine. We'll leave if it makes you happy." He turned to leave the cell, but not before giving Carter a vicious kick to his side. Carter groaned as the pain shot through him. He grabbed his side and curled his body up instinctively, trying to protect himself against further harm. "You can thank your buddy for that one."   
  
"You have fun," Frank said to Benton, "and I wouldn't hold my breath waiting for help because it'll never come." He then slammed the cell door closed with a bang.  
  
Benton rushed to Carter's side, kneeling down beside him. Carter was shivering violently. "Carter? Carter can you hear me?"   
  
Carter weakly opened his eyes and stared up at Benton. "I'm cold," he managed to say. Benton noted that part of Carter's shirt was soaking wet. He debated what to do, knowing he would not be able to pull the shirt over Carter's head because of his tightly bound shoulder. He decided that his best bet would be just to rip it off of him, which he did without too much difficulty.   
  
"What are you doing?" Carter asked, starting to ramble. "Why are you ripping up my clothes?"  
  
"Don't worry about it, Carter. It's okay." Benton then examined Carter's side where he had just been kicked. An ugly red mark was there which was already starting to bruise. He hoped Carter didn't have a fractured rib on top of all his other problems. Hopefully it was just a bruise although either would be painful. He gently probed the area with his fingers.  
  
"Stop it. You're hurting me." Carter tried to twist his body away from Benton.   
  
I'm sorry, Carter." Benton paused to take a deep breath, wondering once again how they had managed to get into this horrible mess. He sat Carter up to wrap him in the blanket as well as he could. He then gently pulled Carter into his arms in an attempt to keep him warm. Carter resisted for a few moments but eventually settled down and stopped shivering. "Wanna go home," Carter mumbled, finally succumbing to sleep.   
  
"I know you do, Carter," Benton said softly as he absently stroked the top of Carter's head. "I want to go home too."  
  
  
End  
  
  



	9. Kidnapped - Chapter 8

Kidnapped - Chapter 8  
  
  
Bill lay sprawled out on the bed in the motel room, staring at the television set, but not really seeing it. It was almost midnight and he was starting to worry. He had expected Frank and Tony back a long time ago. His mind was running through all the various possible ways that the two could have fucked up this caper. For all he knew the police would soon be crashing down the door to take him into custody. Although the air conditioner was on, the room wasn't overly comfortable. Bill got up off the bed, walked over to the air conditioner and turned it up as high as it could go. He then plopped back on the bed and started aimlessly clicking the remote control, but found nothing at all of interest. Finally, when he was just about to lose his mind, he heard the sound of the door being unlocked and Tony and Frank entered the room.  
  
"Where the hell were you two?" he growled. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"  
  
Frank looked at Bill incredulously. "Who the fuck are you, our mother? I wasn't aware that there was a curfew."  
  
"After tomorrow, you can do whatever the fuck you want to do," Bill said. "With any luck I'll never cross your sorry path again. I don't think it was asking too much to expect the two of you back here at a decent hour with clear heads, not gallivanting in bars all night long."  
  
"You're a smug son of a bitch, aren't you?" Frank shook his head and stared at Bill, looking as if he had just taken a whiff of a carton of year old milk. "For your information, we weren't *gallivanting* in bars at all. We just went to visit some friends."  
  
"What friends?" Bill asked, his body immediately stiffening with apprehension. "You better not have told *anyone* about this. You're going to ruin everything." His eyes turned to Tony who was perched on the edge of the other bed, staring at his feet which he was shuffling nervously. "Where did you go, Tony?"  
  
Tony shook his head, his face noticeably paling. "Nowhere, Bill," he stammered. "We...we didn't tell anybody about the plan, honest we didn't."  
  
"Where the fuck did you go, Tony?" Bill could barely control his anger at this point. He knew there was something they weren't telling him, something that they were deliberately keeping a secret.   
  
Frank started to smirk. "Tell him Tony. After all, they're his friends too."  
  
Tony greatly resembled a deer caught in the headlights as his eyes darted between Frank and Bill and he clenched and unclenched his hands repeatedly.   
  
Frank rolled his eyes as Tony continued his silence. "Oh for Pete's sake, Tony. I guess I'll just have to tell him." He smiled slyly at Bill. "We went to see your friends, Dr. Carter and Dr. Benton."  
  
A look of shock came over Bill's face, quickly replaced by intense rage. He lunged at Frank, grabbing him by his shirt collar. All too ready, Frank threw an uppercut at Bill's jaw, causing his head to snap backwards as he landed on the bed. Tony, jarred out of his momentary trance, stood up quickly and came between the two men. "Enough!" he shouted. "This isn't going to help anything!"  
  
"Yeah, sure, whatever." Frank threw himself on the other bed. "I'm *not* sleeping on no fucking cot."  
  
"I'll sleep on the cot." Tony walked over to the cot and proceeded to unfold it. At this point he was willing to do just about anything in order to get some peace.   
  
Bill sat on the bed, seething, resisting the overwhelming urge to rub his throbbing jaw, not wanting to give Frank the satisfaction. "How are they?" he murmured.  
  
"Excuse me?" Frank asked with a grin, cupping his hand around his ear. "I didn't quite get that. Did you ask a question?"  
  
Bill struggled to remain calm as he felt every muscle in his body seem to tighten up with tension. "How's the kid doing?"   
  
"He's still alive," Tony replied, tiring of Frank's constant baiting.  
  
"Why did you go there anyhow?" Bill asked. "What was so compelling that you felt the need to go back?"  
  
"I was worried." Frank chuckled. "I wanted to make sure they didn't drown in all that water you left for them."  
  
"What?!" Bill's eyes blazed with fury. "You took their water? For what purpose? Just to make them suffer? What the hell kind of a person are you?"  
  
Frank sat silently, staring back at Bill with a mocking smile on his face.   
  
"We left them some water." Tony meekly rose to their defense.   
  
Bill shook his head in disgust. "I'd expect it out of *him* but not you, Tony. What happened to you? When did you become so cold-hearted?"  
  
Tony said nothing. Finally after a few moments of almost unbearable silence, he stretched out on the cot, turning to face the wall. He was sick of this whole sordid mess. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough for him. He just wanted this all to be over so he could take his money and have some fun.   
  
Bill turned towards Frank, a neutral expression on his face. "Where are the keys to the van?"   
  
"Don't worry. I have them safe and sound." Frank smiled as he patted his pants pocket lightly.   
  
"Give them to me."  
  
"No fucking way," Frank replied defiantly. "There is no way you're going back out there alone. You'll blow the whole thing. I'm not losing all this money because you're feeling guilty. I was just having a little fun. They'll be fine."  
  
"Anyhow, Billy boy," Frank added mockingly. "You are the one that brainstormed this entire plan, remember that. You're the one that decided to lock them up underground in an old cell. That was you, *not* me."  
  
"Just give me the Goddamn keys."   
  
"I said no!" Frank's face twisted in anger as he reached for his gun. "I'm not fooling around, Bill. If you want to go back after we get our money, by all means go right ahead. The three of you can sit down and have a little tea party. I don't give a shit what you do. For now though, we go according to the plan. You call old lady Carter in the morning and tell her where to make the drop. We pick up our money and we never have to look at each other again."  
  
"I don't recall putting you in charge." Bill's voice was quiet but with a steely edge to it.   
  
"No you didn't," Frank replied agreeably. "But this gun says I keep the keys. I know you have a gun too, but if we engage in a gun battle, the whole plan goes up in smoke anyhow, doesn't it? Then nobody will get anything and your two *friends* will die long, lingering deaths."  
  
Bill took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then laid back on the bed. It was only one more night. Tomorrow he could go on with his life and begin to put all of this behind him. He remained awake for a long time, finally falling into a sleep filled with uneasy dreams.  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
Dave sat on his bike staring up at the windows of Kerry's home. He had been sitting this way for a while and knew he couldn't continue to lurk outside Kerry's house for much longer. If anybody happened to look out their window, they would assume he was up to no good. It was late but Kerry's downstairs lights were still blazing. He knew that she was still awake, probably worrying herself to death. Finally gathering up all his nerve he picked up his bike and started up Kerry's front stairs, boldly ringing her bell before he had a chance to change his mind. A few moments later he saw her peering at him through the glass, a look of obvious surprise on her face.   
  
"Hello Dave," Kerry said after she had unlocked and opened the front door.   
  
"Hiya Chief." Dave shuffled his feet, feeling uncustomarily awkward. "Uh...I came to see, um I wanted to see if you were okay, uh you know, with everything that's happening."  
  
"Well thank you Dave, that was very nice of you. Would you like to come in?" Kerry opened the door and Dave entered her hallway, leaning his bike gently against the wall. He then followed Kerry into the living room where he was startled to see Mark and Elizabeth sitting together on the sofa.  
  
"Hello Dave," Mark said and Elizabeth softly echoed his greeting.   
  
'Shit,' Dave thought to himself. This was one possibility he hadn't even thought of. "Hi Dr. Greene, Dr. Corday." He was sure that Corday had shot him a dirty look as he entered the room. He knew that he wasn't one of her favorite people, nor was she among his. This wasn't the time for pettiness though and hopefully she was in agreement.   
  
"Sit down, Dave," Kerry said, gesturing to a chair. "Can I get you a drink or something?"   
  
"No....I'm fine," Dave said, as he sat down in a chair across from Mark and Elizabeth. "So um, have you heard anything?" He asked, directing his question to Kerry who had just seated herself by him.  
  
"I spoke with John's grandmother just a short time ago. She has the money and is just waiting by the phone to hear what the next step is. The man said he would call tomorrow afternoon but we're hoping he'll call earlier."  
  
Dave nodded. "So how much dough we talking here?"   
  
"Fifteen million dollars."  
  
Dave whistled softly. "Wow, that's a lot of money, but I guess it isn't much for Carter's family. Boy, Dr. Benton must be pretty pissed that he got dragged into this though."  
  
"Why?" Elizabeth snapped, already sick and tired of listening to Dave. "Why do you assume Peter is pissed? He cares about Carter very much. He would want to help him."  
  
"Whatever," Dave shrugged. He didn't agree but he wasn't going to argue with Corday over this. He wished he had thought things through a little bit more before deciding to stop by Kerry's. He should have realized Greene and Corday could be here.  
  
"You don't know Peter at all," Elizabeth continued. "How can you..." She stopped mid-sentence as Mark squeezed her hand tightly.   
  
"Come on Elizabeth," he whispered softly. "Everyone's upset about this. Quarreling amongst ourselves isn't going to help anything."  
  
"Fine." Elizabeth sat back silently, crossing her arms over her chest. She decided to just ignore Dave unless it was deemed absolutely necessary that she speak to him. As far as she was concerned he was an arrogant pup with not a speck of sense in his entire body.  
  
"Why don't I make some more coffee," Kerry suggested as she rose to her feet. She had a feeling it was going to be a very long night.  
  
"I'll help you, Chief," Dave said as he scurried after Kerry into the kitchen, eager to escape the wrath of Corday if only for a few minutes.  
  
After Kerry and Dave had left the room, Mark put his arm around Elizabeth, gently rubbing her shoulder. "Everything's going to be okay, Elizabeth. Peter and Carter are going to be fine."  
  
"You don't know that, Mark," Elizabeth replied softly, shaking her head. "For all we know, they're already dead."  
  
Mark sighed, leaning his head back against the top of the sofa. No matter how optimistic he was trying to be, he knew that Elizabeth was right. All they could do was hope and pray that Carter and Peter would be okay.  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
Carter opened his eyes and saw nothing. Bewildered, he blinked a couple of times, still seeing nothing but blackness. He raised his hand in front of his face, waving it around, but still couldn't see it. He would have thought he was dead if he didn't feel so God-awful. Maybe he was blind. That would be his luck. "Dr. Benton?" he called out in a tremulous voice.   
  
"Yeah, Carter, I'm here." Benton's familiar voice sounded out of the blackness.   
  
"Why...why is it so dark? Why aren't the candles on?"  
  
Benton sighed heavily. "The candles burned out, Carter."  
  
Carter shivered, not so much from the cold as from the fear. Why knows what could be in here that they couldn't see. It hadn't seemed quite as bad when they had the candles, but now he was terrified. "What about the flashlight?"   
  
"I don't want to use it without good reason, Carter. We have it if we really need it.  
  
"Please turn it on, Dr. Benton, please?" Carter pleaded.   
  
"All right, Carter, but just for a minute, okay?" Benton fumbled around until his fingers finally grasped the flashlight. He flicked the switch and the inside of the cell was illuminated. Benton studied Carter closely, wishing once again that there was something he could do to help him.   
  
"Okay now Carter?" Benton asked, giving him a reassuring pat on his shoulder.   
  
Carter nodded, not looking very convincing. "Yeah, I'm all right. You can turn it off."  
  
Benton turned off the flashlight, plunging the cell back into darkness.   
  
The two sat silently for a few long minutes before Benton spoke. "Carter, you need anything? You warm enough?" He hoped Carter wasn't thirsty. Their water supply was now dangerously low. They still had the crappy food but who the hell wanted chocolate, crackers or beef jerky sticks without water. He wondered if they had been deliberately given thirst-inducing foods. Benton's thoughts were starting to turn morbid as he wondered what it would be like to die of thirst. Realistically speaking, Carter would die first. The thought of it chilled Benton to the core and he tried to think of something else.   
  
"I'm fine," Carter answered tonelessly. He broke out into a fit of coughing, causing sharp pains in his shoulder, chest and in his side where he had been kicked. Finally the coughing eased and he tried to catch his breath.   
  
"You all right, Carter?" Benton's tone was gentle, the question automatic. He knew he wasn't all right. He was far from it.  
  
"Yeah." Carter didn't bother to elaborate any further. He knew he was running out of time and he knew Dr. Benton knew it too. Of all the ways in the world there were to die, he had never imagined this. There weren't many ways that seemed worse, maybe burning in a fire or dying of thirst in the desert. He supposed there were other ways also, but right now this seemed about the worst. Suddenly feeling hot, Carter tossed the blanket that was covering him off to the side.   
  
Benton thoughts had begun drifting again, this time focusing on Reece. He was such a good little boy. He wondered what he would be like as he got older...what kind of a man he would grow up to be. He hoped that Carla would let Jackie see him after he was gone, let her be a part of his life. Jackie was a good sister and she had always been good to Reece. She'd tell him about his father. Let him know how much he had loved him. Benton was abruptly brought out of his thoughts by the realization that Carter was speaking.  
  
"When I was a kid...I used to be really afraid of the dark," Carter began. "I would see shadows on my walls and think they were people. There was one shadow that looked like a huge hunchback of a man, wearing a hat. I used to try to show it to my brother, but he never saw what I saw. Of course, we can't even see any shadows here...we can't see a thing." He swiped at the sweat-soaked hair on his forehead, feeling more and more unbearably hot.   
  
"Lots of people are afraid of the dark, Carter. I can't say I'm too fond of it myself right now." Benton longed to be outside, walking in the sunshine or the moonlight, whatever fucking time of day it was. He longed to be anywhere except in this horrible little cell.   
  
"Dr. Benton?"  
  
"Hmmm? Yeah, what is it Carter?"  
  
"Dr. Benton...Do you, do you think there's something after this life?"  
  
Benton tilted his head back, resting it against the stone wall. He could just hear the fear in Carter's voice. He didn't know what he thought. It wasn't something he had ever spent much time worrying about.  
  
"I'm sure there is something, Carter," Benton said quietly. "But you shouldn't be thinking about that. Help is going to come...very, very soon."  
  
"You think...you think there's a big tunnel like they talk about and that my brother is waiting to lead me into the other world?"   
  
Benton began to fidget, feeling very uncomfortable with Carter's topic of conversation. "Yeah Carter...that's probably what happens."  
  
"And Lucy is there and Dennis?"  
  
Unexpectedly, Benton felt his eyes well up with tears and for a split second was actually grateful for the darkness, glad that Carter couldn't see him in a moment of weakness. "Yes Carter."   
  
"I hope...I hope they forgive me." Carter spoke in a soft whisper, but Benton still heard his words.  
  
"Carter...Carter there's nothing for them to forgive. Those things weren't your fault, neither of them. If they could, I'm sure they would tell you that themselves."  
  
"I think this is my punishment...for the horrible things I've done," Carter moaned as he began to ramble. "You're just an innocent pawn. Or maybe you're part of my punishment too. God would know how horrible I would feel that you are going to be left here to die alone, that this is my fault too. I'm sorry, Dr. Benton...I'm so sorry." Carter 's voice was full of despair.   
  
"Come on man...Don't. None of this is your fault Carter. You sure as hell don't deserve this." Benton grabbed the flashlight and turned it on. He cursed as he saw Carter's sweat-covered face and instinctively put his hand on his forehead even though it was obvious that he was burning up again. Benton shakily shook four Advil out of the bottle and poured a small amount of water into a cup, trying not to think about the tiny amount of both Advil and water that were left.  
  
"Carter here." Benton lifted Carter's head with one hand and popped the pills into his mouth. "Come on, man...drink this, swallow the pills.   
  
"I don't know why this happened," Carter murmured feverishly as Benton lowered his head gently back down. "I don't want to die here. Why is this happening to us? Why?"  
  
Benton watched as Carter dropped off to sleep and then turned off the flashlight. He hand remained lightly resting on the younger man's chest. Benton needed to feel the rise and fall of Carter's chest as he breathed. He needed to believe that he was somehow going to get through this.  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
"Hello?" Millicent grabbed the phone on the very first ring. The night had seemed endless. The few times she had managed to doze off for a few moments, she had been tormented by dreams of John being tortured, screaming in pain. After that, she hadn't even tried to get any more rest. She had just sat quietly, staring at the clocking, listening to its rhythmic ticking.  
  
"Mrs. Carter?"   
  
Millicent immediately recognized the voice of the man who had taken John.  
  
"Yes...this is Millicent Carter," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "I have the money."  
  
"Very good," Bill said. "Now here's what I want you to do..."  
  
  
  
End Chapter 8  
  
  



	10. Kidnapped - Chapter 9

Title: Kidnapped - Part 9  
Author: Lynne Facella  
Email address: Mulderette@aol.com or Lynne1919@aol.com   
Rating: PG (violence, language)  
Keywords: Angst  
Spoilers: Episodes through All in the Family  
Archive: Sure, just ask so I know where it is going.  
Disclaimer: All ER characters are the property of Warner Brothers, NBC, etc., etc. (The bad guys are mine).  
Summary: Dr. Carter is held for ransom and an unwitting Dr. Benton gets dragged along for the ride.  
  
  
Note: The U.S. Treasury no longer circulates $10,000 bills, but for storyline purposes I assumed these are still in existence.  
  
  
  
Millicent sat down heavily on the chair by the phone, paying strict attention to the gruff voice at the other end of the line.  
  
"I want you to put the money into an ordinary duffle bag. Then, at exactly 2 o'clock this afternoon, you're to arrive at Union Station. And you'd *better* be alone. Go to the locker area and find locker number 219. It will be unlocked. Put the money in the locker and head home. When I am sure that I wasn't followed, I will call you at home and let you know where your grandson and Dr. Benton are."  
  
"How do I know I can believe you?" Millicent asked warily. "How do I even know John is still alive? For all I know I'll give you the money and never hear from you again."  
  
"You're just going to have to trust me," Bill replied. "You don't really have a choice. If you don't give me the money or if I'm followed...your grandson and Dr. Benton are both going to die."  
  
"I'll be there," Millicent said coolly and she heard a click on the other end of the line. With a shaking hand she switched the phone off. Taking a deep breath, she tried to compose herself, then picked up the card with Kerry Weaver's number on it and began to dial.  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
"What did she say, Chief?" Dave asked as Kerry put the phone down. He, Mark and Elizabeth all gave Kerry their undivided attention. It had been a very long night and they were all anxious to finally hear some news.   
  
"She is going to deliver the money this afternoon. After they make sure they're not being followed, the men will call Mrs. Carter and let her know John and Peter's whereabouts."  
  
"What?!" Dave cast an appalled look in Kerry's direction. "That's crazy, Chief! How do we even know that they'll tell her anything? They'll just take the money and run."  
  
Kerry met Dave's gaze, very much aware that what he said could be true. "We have to go along with her wishes on this, Dave...I don't really know what else to do."  
  
Mark and Elizabeth exchanged silent glances, each mentally weighing the pros and cons of how to deal with this situation.   
  
"I'll tell you what to do, Chief." Dave stood up and started pacing back and forth. The long hours he had gone without sleep had pushed him beyond the point of exhaustion into a wired and nervous bundle of energy. "Where is she bringing the money? I'll go there, wait to see who picks it up. Then I'll follow them...I can do it without being spotted."  
  
Kerry shook her head. "I appreciate you wanting to help, Dave...but Mrs. Carter didn't tell me where she was going. She asked if I would meet her back at her home at around 3...to wait with her for the call."  
  
"I'm going to go with you," Mark said.  
  
"Me too," Dave chimed in.  
  
Kerry nodded. She doubted that Mrs. Carter would object and she thought it was better to keep Dave under wraps. She knew he meant well but she didn't want him to get any crazy ideas in his head and go off to do something reckless.  
  
"You'll keep me informed?" Elizabeth bit on her lower lip, trying hard to keep up her calm demeanor. "I need to go into work this afternoon...especially now that Peter's not available."  
  
"Of course I will." Mark squeezed her hand and offered her an encouraging smile. "I have a good feeling about this, Elizabeth. They'll be okay...you'll see."  
  
"I'm going to go make a bit of breakfast." Kerry got to her feet and headed to the kitchen. She wasn't the least bit hungry, but she felt like she needed to do something and cooking would help to allay her shattered nerves at least a little bit. She just hoped that Mark was right...that John and Peter really were all right.  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
Benton sighed heavily as Carter went into another fit of coughing in his sleep. The cough was profoundly worsening and Benton could never remember feeling so helpless. The day Carter had been stabbed had been horrible, but at least he had the necessary tools at his disposal to help him...his training as a surgeon, the proper medical equipment, medicines, and Dr. Anspaugh to reign him in when he had started to panic. Here he had nothing...all the training in the world wasn't doing Carter any good whatsoever.  
  
"Dr. Benton?" Carter asked softly as he woke from his sleep.   
  
"Yeah, Carter." Benton turned on the flashlight and scooted closer to Carter, gently placing his hand on the younger man's forehead and closing his eyes in dismay at the heat that was emanating from it.   
  
"I'd like some water please." Carter looked up at Benton with pleading eyes. Benton took the almost empty container of water and drained the last of it into a cup, trying to ignore his own intense thirst. He was dismayed that this was the last of their water. It made their hopes of survival seem even dimmer. What made it more difficult was his total inability to judge time. He had no idea how much time had passed since Frank and Tony's visit. It seemed to have been a long time, but maybe that was only wishful thinking.  
  
"Carter...Carter...I want you to take some more Advil." Benton shook the last four pills into the palm of his hand and supported Carter's head as he obediently swallowed them. Benton then breathed a sigh of relief as Carter laid back down, his thirst momentarily quenched. He didn't relish the prospect of telling Carter their water supply was exhausted.   
  
Carter shivered a little, pulling the blanket tighter around him and was immediately seized with a sharp shooting pain in his shoulder. He cringed and took a deep breath causing another spasm of coughing. After the coughing had finally abated, he squeezed his eyes shut trying to regain control over his body.   
  
"Carter...hey man...you okay?" Benton gently rubbed Carter's uninjured shoulder, trying to comfort him if only a little bit.   
  
Carter nodded. "Can I...Can I just have a little more water?" he gasped. His throat felt raw and sore and at least water would serve to give him a little relief, albeit temporary.   
  
"Carter...why don't you just try to go to sleep?" Benton spoke soothingly as he brushed the limp strands of hair off Carter's forehead with his hand.  
  
"No...don't want to sleep," Carter moaned, shaking his head. "Thirsty...I need a drink...please?"  
  
Benton sat silently, hoping if he ignored the issue that Carter would just drop off to sleep, however he had no such luck.  
  
"What's going on? Why...why can't I have some water?" Carter looked at Benton pleadingly and then suddenly he just knew. There was no way that Dr. Benton would deny him water. He should have realized it sooner. "We...we don't have any more water, Dr. Benton, do we?"  
  
Benton shook his head. "I'm sorry man...I...I'm sorry." He looked down at Carter helplessly. It seemed that their situation was just progressively worsening and he knew that Carter's time was running out. Benton was powerless to do anything and it was making him crazy.   
  
"It isn't your fault, Dr. Benton. But you...you gave all the water to me, didn't you? You didn't drink any of it yourself. You shouldn't have done that, Dr. Benton," Carter said, his voice wavering. "You...you at least might still stand a chance. I...I'm not going to make it very much longer..."  
  
"Come on Carter..." Benton swallowed hard, fearing that his emotions were going to overcome him. "I told you before...we're *both* going to get out of here man. You're going to be okay. I promise you will be."  
  
Carter nodded and closed his eyes, unable to keep them open any longer. He heard Dr. Benton's voice as he started to drift off. "That's it man...you just sleep. That's the best thing for you right now."  
  
When he was sure that Carter was sleeping soundly, Benton clicked off the flashlight. The way things were going for them, he was pretty sure the batteries would be giving out sometime soon too. He then started to let his thoughts go, exploring the most gruesome possibilities. What if Carter really did die? What if he died and no one ever came. He wondered how long it would take before he himself died too. He couldn't help thinking about Reese. What would happen if he wasn't around? Would he even remember his father? Carter's family would probably spend tons of money to find out what had happened to their son...but maybe they'd never know. No one would ever discover what happened to either of them. He wondered what the staff at County thought about all of this. Was this spread all over the papers, front page news about two doctors missing from County or was the whole thing being kept quiet? He wished he knew. He wished he could figure out some way to get out of this mess. He wished that someone would come to help them...  
  
****************************************************************************  
  
"All right, I'm leaving now," Bill said as he stood up and grabbed his set of keys off the nightstand. "I'll get back here, we'll split the money and it's over."  
  
"What do you mean *you're* leaving?" Frank asked, his eyes narrowing. "If you think that you're going alone to get the money...you've got another thing coming. No fucking way are you getting that money by yourself."  
  
Bill opened his mouth, about to deliver a particularly nasty retort when he decided it just really wasn't worth it. "Fine. We'll all go, but keep a low profile. We are too close now. I don't want any fuck ups."  
  
Frank shook his head slowly, looking at Bill in disgust. "You really are a piece of work. We haven't fucked anything up yet, have we?"  
  
"You took an unnecessary risk going back there last night."   
  
"It didn't hurt anything. Anyhow...those two needed to be shown who was boss. I guess I showed em," he said with a smirk.  
  
"Yeah...big man...Let's go." Bill threw down a few bills for the maid and then strode towards the door and flung it open before he headed to the front desk to check out. Frank and Tony walked out to the van and leaned against it, waiting.   
  
"God...this guy is something else," Frank mumbled. "I can't even believe the two of you are friends."  
  
"Come on Frankie," Tony said. "Bill's a good guy. We're going to get a lot of money because of him. You've gotta admit, this was one smart caper. It really looks like we're going to get away with it. Five million dollars each...and tax free to boot!"  
  
"Five million dollars is a decent cut..." Frank began musingly. "But you know...this kid's family is worth a hell of a lot more than that. Bill wasn't too bright when he only asked for 15 mil. He could have asked for a lot more than that...twice as much even..."  
  
"Awwww Frankie...Five million dollars is plenty. I mean how much money do you really need?"  
  
"Ten million would have been a lot better," Frank replied. The wheels in his head were starting to spin. Was there any real reason why they shouldn't get more money? He was going to have to think about that. He started as Bill came out and unlocked the car door, sliding in behind the wheel. He followed Tony over to the passenger side. He could hardly wait to get his hands on all that money.  
  
****************************************************************************  
  
Millicent Carter sat in the taxi cab, nervously clutching the cloth duffel bag filled with crisp green bills. She had decided to call a taxi rather than run the risk of attracting any unwelcome attention by arriving in the family limousine. She wondered how John was doing...how badly he had been hurt. She would not allow herself to think any further than that. She didn't even want to consider the possibility that he was no longer alive. He had to be all right...he just had to be. She was brought out of her thoughts by the voice of the taxi driver.   
  
"Lady? Lady here we are."   
  
"Oh...I'm sorry. Thank you." She handed the driver some bills and proceeded to get out of the cab.  
  
"No thank *you* lady," the driver said, highly impressed with the large tip she had given him. "Have a nice day."   
  
Millicent didn't even hear him as she closed the taxi door, her thoughts only on what she was about to do. She couldn't begin to imagine how her husband would react when he found out what she had done...especially if it turned out badly. It was best not to think about that now though. One thing at a time. She walked slowly into the station looking about in confusion until she finally figured out where the lockers were that she was supposed to go to. She made her way down the row of lockers until she found the one she was looking for, 219. She glanced quickly in all directions, making sure she wasn't being observed, and shoved the duffel bag inside the locker, closing the door with a bang. She then took a deep breath and quickly walked away. She saw no sign of the man who had been at her house. Perhaps he had sent one of his hoodlum buddies to retrieve the money. In any case, she didn't even turn around to see what transpired after she left, but just rapidly made her way back out to flag down a taxi. And as she walked, she prayed to God that these men were going to keep their word and she would get her grandson back safely.  
  
*****************************************************************************  
  
"She did it! She did it!" Tony whispered excitedly as the three men watched Millicent Carter put the duffel bag into the locker from their carefully chosen vantage point across the crowded room.  
  
"Shhhhhhhh..." Bill said, shooting Tony a sharp look. The last thing they needed was for Tony to be calling attention to them. "Tony go follow her...make sure she's really leaving."   
  
Tony looked at Bill incredulously. "No way man. I'm staying right here. And anyhow...what's that old lady going to do to us?"  
  
"All right...stay..." Upon reflection, Bill couldn't really blame Tony for not wanting to leave. He knew that there was no way in hell he would ever trust these two alone with the money either.   
  
"Well what the hell are we waiting for?" Frank asked with a greedy gleam in his eyes. "Let's get this show on the road."  
  
Bill nodded as he slowly started towards the locker with Frank and Tony following closely on his heels. His heart pounded more and more with each step, a large part of him expecting police to come descending upon them at any moment. Finally he reached the locker and opened the door, shakily pulling out the duffel bag. He didn't even dare to open it but instead headed back towards the lot where they had parked the van. Finally, safely inside the van, he unzipped the bag and peeked inside. An indescribable feeling came over him as he pulled a stack of ten thousand dollar bills out of the bag, 15 stacks in all. For a few moments he just stared at it, unable to believe he was sitting here with all this money.  
  
"Wooo hooo!" shouted Tony. "We did it! We really fucking did it! We're rich! Rich!"  
  
"Shut the fuck up!" Frank stated angrily, elbowing Tony sharply in his side. "You want to let everyone in the fucking world hear you?"  
  
"We're getting out of here." Bill said, as he put the key in the ignition and started up the van. "I'm sick to death of both of you. I'm going to drive to your apartment, Frank because it's close by, and then that'll be it. I'm washing my hands of the two of you."   
  
"Fine with me," Frank grumbled, staring out the window.   
  
A short time later Bill pulled up in front of the dilapidated building where Frank resided. "I'm not going to be living in this hovel any more," Frank looking at it in distaste. "No more living in hellholes like this."  
  
Bill paid him no mind. He was busily counting out the money which he soon had arranged into three equal stacks. "All right...this is it. I'd like to say it's been swell, but it hasn't been. Don't spend it all in one place." He thrust one of the stacks at Frank and the other at Tony.   
  
"What now?" Tony asked, looking at Bill curiously. "You calling that woman to let her know where they are?"   
  
"Not right away...we need a little headway to make ourselves scarce. Then I'll call her. You two had best think about getting out of town. Now leave...both of you. Have a nice life."   
  
"Screw you," Frank said with a sneer as he opened the door and got out of the van, Tony sliding out beside him. They stood and watched as Bill sped away the moment the door was closed.   
  
"Hey Frankie? You mind giving me a ride to my place?" Tony asked. "There's a few things I gotta do, then I'm getting out of here too. I'm going to have me a great time."  
  
"Sure Tony...I'll give you a ride."  
  
They walked over to Frank's old brown beat up Ford and after a few false starts the engine finally roared to life. "I know one thing...This old shit box is going to be put out of it's misery," Frank muttered as he started driving.   
  
"Yeah Frankie? You buying a new car?" Tony asked. "What kind are you getting?"   
  
"I don't know yet...but it's going to be expensive...the kind of car someone like me only dreams about. It's going to be one fucking fine piece of machinery. And then...then I'm going to pick up some broads. All these bitches who always thought they were too good for Frankie Ryan...they'll be singing a different tune now. They'll be begging for a chance to be with me and all my money."  
  
"Yeah...." Tony settled back against the seat, chuckling. "Yeah...you'll show those bitches who's boss, won't ya Frankie?"   
  
"Oh yeah...you're right about that Tony..." A determined look settled over Frank's face as he drove. This money was going to give him the power to buy and sell people...but five million...it just wasn't enough. He wanted more...and he was going to get it.  
  
"Frankie? Hey Frankie. You were supposed to turn left back there at the light."   
  
"Don't worry Tony...You'll get home soon enough." Frank took his eyes off the road long enough to shoot a grin in Tony's direction.   
  
Tony's eyes widened as the meaning behind Frank's words sunk in. "No Frankie...no way! Come on man. What are you going to do, kill them?! I won't do it man. No way!"  
  
"Who said anything about killing them, Tony?" Frank said in a soothing tone. "I'm not going to kill anybody. I just think 15 million dollars was kind of a bargain basement price for two prestigious doctors. I think that we need a bit more money to make it really worth our while. After all...how many times are we going to have a young man from such a wealthy family in such a precarious position? I think we need to take full advantage of the situation."  
  
"Bill's calling that old broad...She's going to call the police, Frankie. It's too risky."  
  
"You heard Bill. He's not going to call right away. I'm not settling for only five mil. You shouldn't be so easily satisfied, Tony. I think we deserve another ten. I think that biddy would pay 25 million to get her punk grandson back, don't you?"  
  
"Another ten? No way. You're crazy. I don't want anything to do with this. Let me out."  
  
Frank deliberately accelerated the car, grinning widely. "Sorry Tony...I need help and you're going to help me. But don't worry...you'll be *very* well paid..."  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
Kerry, Dave, Mark and Millicent sat silently in the den of the Carter Estate. There was an obvious tension hanging over the room. The sudden ringing of the telephone caused each of them to jump slightly.  
  
"Hello?" Millicent said, picking up the phone. Her expression quickly changed from one of hope to distaste. "No I do not wish to change my long distance carrier. Do not call here again!" She slammed the phone down and smiled shakily at her guests. "Obviously that wasn't him..."  
  
"He'll call..." Kerry leaned forward and patted the elderly woman's hand gently. They hadn't been here for very long, but each minute seemed like an eternity. She just hoped he would call soon and that Peter and John would be found.   
  
Dave sat nervously, trying not to fidget. He wished the damn phone would ring already. This was much worse than it had been when they were all waiting at the Chief's house. At least there he had felt like he could breathe. This place though...this was something else. He had always known Carter was rich, but this...it was like living in a museum. He couldn't imagine living in a place like this, truth be told he didn't think he'd want to. He thought back to all the things he had broken as a child. His mom had used to affectionately compare him to a tornado, saying that he destroyed everything in his path. God knows what kind of damage he would have done in this place, probably thousands of dollars worth.  
  
"Huh?" Dave suddenly noticed that the gazes of the other three occupants of the room were all directed at him. He looked at them blankly.  
  
"Mrs. Carter asked if you would like a drink," Kerry said, fighting not to roll her eyes.   
  
"Um no thank you ma'am...I'm fine." Dave shifted awkwardly in his chair and managed to smile at Mrs. Carter.   
  
All attention quickly shifted away from Dave though as the ringing of the telephone once again resounded through the room. Millicent quickly grabbed the phone, clutching it with a death grip to her ear. "Hello...yes...yes..." She closed her eyes and put her other hand up against her heart as she heard the words she had been afraid to hope for. The man at the other end of the line hung up and she clicked off the phone turning towards Kerry, Mark and Dave.  
  
Tears began spilling from her eyes as she spoke. "They...they're at some old prison, Thompsonville it's out on Route..."  
  
"I know where it is," Dave interrupted, springing to his feet. "Call the police. Mark, come on. Give me your keys. I'll drive."  
  
Mark gave Dave a questioning look but did as he asked and the two them bolted from the room. Millicent got on the telephone and had a long conversation with the police chief, finally getting him to believe her story and to send somebody out to the old prison. Then finally, the strain of trying to keep it together throughout this whole ordeal became too much for her and the tears started to flow.   
  
"It's going to be all right," Kerry said softly. She wrapped her arm around the older woman trying to comfort her. "They'll find them."  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
Bill hung up the phone and breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully the two doctors would be found safe. He slung the duffel over his shoulder and made his way out to the rental car parked outside. His first thought had been to get out of the country right away but he didn't want to run the risk of trying to take such a large amount of money through Customs so had decided to drive out to California. He would wear a disguise and he knew a couple of ex-cons out there who would be able to help him out with a safe place to stay for a while. He got in the car and started driving, hoping that Frank and Tony had played it smart also and were on their way out of town.  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
"So Dave, how'd you know about this place anyhow?" Mark asked as Dave gunned the van towards the old prison. "I've never even heard of it."  
  
"When I first came out to Chicago, before I started at County, I used to like to explore the back roads on my bike. Saw a lot of interesting places. That was one of them. I never actually went into it though. The place kind of gave me the willies."  
  
"I can imagine..." Mark tried to keep a nonchalant expression on his face as Dave drove. He was taking some of these curves a little too quickly for Mark's liking. He hoped they didn't end up flying off the side of the road, smashing themselves and his van into a million pieces. Then they wouldn't do Carter and Benton any good at all.   
  
"Relax..." Dave said, shooting a quick grin in Mark's direction. "I'm not going to let anything happen to your van. Besides we'll be there soon..."  
  
  
End Part 9  
  
  



	11. Kidnapped - 10a - Conclusion

Title: Kidnapped - Part 10A - The Conclusion  
Author: Lynne Facella  
Email address: Mulderette@aol.com or Lynne1919@aol.com   
Rating: PG (violence, language)  
Keywords: Angst  
Spoilers: Episodes through All in the Family  
Archive: Sure, just ask so I know where it is going.  
Disclaimer: All ER characters are the property of Warner Brothers, NBC, etc., etc. (The bad guys are mine).  
Summary: Dr. Carter is held for ransom and an unwitting Dr. Benton gets dragged along for the ride.  
  
Author's notes: Thank you, Victoria, for your storyline suggestions. They were very helpful to me :)  
  
  
Carter awoke shivering violently, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. His eyes shifted desperately in every direction, but once again found only darkness. "Turn on the light. Turn on the light please, Dr. Benton," he begged.  
  
Benton quickly grabbed the flashlight and flicked on the switch. He then examined Carter, carefully, trying to hide his growing concern. Carter's condition was rapidly deteriorating. His breathing was shallow and he was in noticeable pain whenever he coughed.   
  
"Nobody's coming for us, are they?" Carter asked, struggling to catch his breath. "God...we're just...we're just going to die in here."  
  
"No we're not...we're not, Carter..." Benton tried to reassure his friend although privately he didn't hold out much hope either. He placed his hand on Carter's forehead and it seemed that the Advil he had given him hadn't helped very much at all. He was burning up.   
  
"How could they do it? How could they just leave us here like this? How?"  
  
"Help is coming, Carter. It is..." Benton said consolingly. "Don't talk any more. You need to save your strength."   
  
"I feel sick." Carter whimpered as he thrashed about fretfully. He just couldn't stand this anymore. He was cold and thirsty. Everything hurt and he was having a hard time breathing. He longed to be somewhere warm and safe. "I...." His words were cut off by the sound of a loud bang. "What...what was that?"  
  
"I don't know, Carter..." They had been disappointed so many times before that Benton hardly dared to hope that help could have arrived. He struggled awkwardly to his feet, his stiff muscles rebelling against the unaccustomed movement. He moved closer to the door and he could hear the approaching footsteps. He felt a sudden sense of foreboding. If someone had arrived to rescue them...why weren't they calling out to them? He could think of no other explanation for their abductors to return...unless they here to kill them. He should have known they would be back to finish them off. They hadn't even attempted to hide their identities. He moved back towards Carter, inwardly vowing that he would not go down without a fight, trying to steel himself against whatever was to come. Within moments, he heard the key turning in the lock. The door slowly opened and the bright beam of a flashlight illuminated the cell.   
  
"Hey Tony, great news." Frank chuckled raspily as he greeted Benton with a mock salute. "Our little pals are still alive...well sort of anyhow. Grab him."   
  
Tony advanced towards Carter and Benton turned towards him with a growl. "*Don't* touch him."  
  
"I am *so* sick of you and your damn attitude." Frank raised his gun and aimed it at Benton's head, as he slowly increased the pressure on the trigger. "Just one little click and you can say goodbye to this world as you know it. Try me."   
  
With Benton's attention refocused on Frank, Tony took the opportunity to try to hoist Carter to his feet. "No...Leave me alone," Carter pleaded as bolts of pain shot through his shoulder.   
  
"Hey!" Benton swiftly pivoted in Carter's direction, but Frank took his gun and slammed it into Benton's skull. He crashed to the floor, unconscious.   
  
"Get him up!" Frank yelled, annoyed that Carter was still on the floor.   
  
"I need help. This guy's dead weight."   
  
Frank rolled his eyes as he went over to Tony and roughly assisted in yanking Carter up.   
  
"No...please...he's hurt." Carter said as he weakly struggled against the ironclad grips of his two assailants. He cast a desperate glance at Dr. Benton's still form, but it was to no avail. The two men began to haul him out of the cell.   
  
As he was manhandled up the stairs, Carter was seized by another fit of coughing and a wave of dizziness. "I'm gonna be sick," he muttered, unable to control the sudden nausea that came over him. He staggered forward and retched violently. Nothing came up however, and he mostly just succeeded in straining his abdominal muscles.   
  
"Enough of this shit!" Frank screamed. He yanked Carter viciously, causing him to stumble and almost fall. "The fucking cops are going to be here. We've got to get him out of here!"   
  
Finally they managed to drag the half conscious young man into the bright sunshine. Carter squeezed his eyes shut against the unfamiliar brightness and fought against the waves of nausea which were threatening once more. Frank glanced at Carter, recognizing the look on his face and gave him a look of disgust. "He isn't puking all over my car. We're shoving him in the trunk."  
  
"What? Oh come on Frankie.." Tony said, but any further protest died when he saw the look of blind fury on Frank's face. Tony didn't dare go up against him.   
  
Frank opened the trunk of the car and the two men clumsily lifted Carter inside, ignoring his feeble pleas to let him go. No sooner had Frank slammed the trunk shut when he cocked his head, hearing the faint sounds of sirens in the distance. "Shit! Let's get the fuck out of here!"   
  
The two men scrambled into the car and Frank turned the key in the ignition just as a van came speeding towards them.   
  
"Fuck!" Frank yelled as he pressed his foot as far down as possible on the accelerator.   
  
******************************************************************************  
  
Dave swore softly as the men in the brown Ford attempted their escape. "Get out!" he yelled at Mark as he swerved to a stop.   
  
"Huh? What are you doing, Dave?" Mark yelled as he grabbed his medical bag from the floor and quickly exited the van.   
  
"I'll be back!" Dave yelled, expertly maneuvering the van in the direction the kidnappers had taken. "Check this place out. We can't let them get away!"  
  
"Dave no!" Mark shouted as he helplessly watched Dave swivel the Van. "Let the police handle this!" His words fell on deaf ears though as he watched his van disappear from sight.  
  
Dave could feel the rush of adrenaline as he started to chase the men in the Ford. "You're not going to outrun me in that crappy car," he uttered softly as he slowly, but steadily, began to gain on the Ford.  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
Mark was apprehensively making his way towards the prison when two squad cars pulled up. He turned back towards the police officers.  
  
"Put your hands up!" one officer yelled. Mark gave no argument, dropping his bag to the ground. "I'm a doctor at County, Mark Greene. I have my ID. Listen...My friend just took off after the guys we think are the kidnappers. We're not sure if the victims are with them or if they're here."  
  
The officer searched Mark's bag and inspected Mark's ID, finally satisfied as to the validity of his story. "Which way did they go?"  
  
Mark pointed towards the left. "They're in an old brown Ford. My friend is chasing them in my van."  
  
The officer nodded. "Stan...Mike...Go after them. Radio in. Maybe they can intersect them. We'll search this place and see what we can find. Come on Ben."   
  
The three men headed towards the prison. "I'm Officer Jim Peterson. Some kind of mess your friends have gotten themselves into. The police should have been called in long before this."  
  
"Right now I just want to find them." Mark said quietly, praying to God they would find Benton and Carter alive.   
  
"Carter! Peter!" Mark shouted as they entered the building. "Carter! Peter!" They stood silently for a few moments, straining to hear any kind of response, but they heard nothing.   
  
"Let's spread out and search," Officer Peterson ordered.  
  
"Carter! Peter!"  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
A sharp knife-like sensation penetrated Benton's skull as he began to regain consciousness. "Oh man..." he moaned as he opened his eyes and tried to focus on his surroundings. He was still in the Godforsaken cell, but this time was different...the cell door was open...but Carter was gone..."  
  
"Oh no..." Peter moaned as he tried to sit up, his vision beginning to swim, causing him to slump back against the floor.  
  
"Carter! Peter!"  
  
For a moment, Benton was sure he was in the midst of a dream or a hallucination. It had to be some sort of trick. There had been too many instances of false hopes. He refused to believe that help had finally come.   
  
"Carter! Peter! Can you hear me?"  
  
He was definitely hallucinating. That voice had sounded like Mark Greene. Why would he be here? Peter made another attempt to sit up and this time managed to do so, leaning heavily against the wall. "Mark?" he called weakly. He then tried again, managing to yell louder this time. "Mark! Down here!"  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
"Peter?" A surge of hope swept through Mark as he heard the familiar voice of the surgeon. "Hey I think I've found them!" Mark shouted as he looked down the pitch black stairwell. "I need a flashlight."   
  
A few moments later Officer Peterson turned on the flashlight, casting a warm glow over the dark passageway, and the men cautiously began their descent.   
  
"This place is unbelievable," Peterson murmured. "I can't believe they kept them here."   
  
Mark nodded grimly, unable to even begin to fathom what Carter and Benton had gone through these past days. The flashlight beam hit upon an open cell door and Mark and Peterson headed towards it.   
  
"Peter!" Mark knelt down beside his colleague. "What happened to you? Are you hurt?"   
  
"I got knocked on the head pretty good...I'm okay though. Listen they grabbed Carter. You've gotta find him."   
  
"We have to get you out of here. Do you think you can stand if we help you?" Mark asked with concern. This place was eerie. He couldn't believe they had been held captive in this place.   
  
"Yeah...I definitely want out of this place."  
  
Mark and Peterson gently helped Peter get to his feet. He swayed slightly for a few seconds, but then regained his balance as Mark helped to steady him. A few minutes later they found themselves outside and Peter flopped exhaustedly onto the grass. "You guys don't happen to have any water, do you?" he asked as he tried to adjust his eyes to the sunlight while breathing in the fresh air.   
  
"I've got some spring water in the car," Ben said as he hurriedly went over to the cruiser and returned holding a three-quarters full bottle of water. He offered it to Benton who grabbed the bottle and greedily started gulping its contents.   
  
"Whoa...whoa...easy Peter..." Mark cautioned as he began checking Peter's vital signs. "We need to get you into County, get you checked out."  
  
"We have to find Carter...." Benton gazed intently at Mark. "He...he's really sick, Mark. I...I don't know how much longer he can last without proper medical attention."   
  
"Dave left here chasing after those guys," Mark stated. "Maybe he'll find them?"  
  
"Malucci?" Benton gave Mark an incredulous look. "Mark...these men are dangerous. They have guns. They shot Carter...They're not fooling around..."  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
"Why doesn't that fucking moron give up?!" Frank screamed, unable to lose the van that was following closely behind them.   
  
"You're the fucking moron, not him! I told you this was a stupid idea!" Tony yelled. "We should have just left. We could have been free and clear with five million dollars. Now we'll be lucky to even get away."  
  
"Shut the fuck up!" Frank bellowed. He was starting to panic. He had no idea what he was going to do. They had to get away from this guy in the van. "Tony...Tony shoot at him. Blow his tires out or blow his head off...something..."  
  
Tony shook his head, finally beginning to realize that they were royally screwed. "We're not going to get away with this Frankie...it's over..."  
  
"Damn it! I said to shoot at him!"   
  
"Or what?" Tony scoffed. He gave Frank a contemptuous look and then stared ahead, his face paling as he saw the flashing blue lights of a road block up ahead in the distance.   
  
"Turn around!"   
  
"There's not enough room," Frank said loudly, eying the narrow road in alarm, but then, seeing no other possible way out he slowed down in order to attempt it, momentarily forgetting about the van hot on their trail.   
  
******************************************************************************  
  
"Peter...we really should be bringing you to the hospital," Mark admonished gently, giving a concerned glance to the man beside him. The two were seated in the back of Officer Peterson's squad car which was headed in the direction that Dave and the kidnappers were headed. By radio contact they had learned of the road block that had been set up in an attempt to end this once and for all.   
  
Peter shook his head. "You don't understand. I can't," he began slowly. "I *have* to be there for him, Mark. I just have to."  
  
He had no idea what was going through the minds of these men. According to Mark they had gotten their money. What on earth were they hoping to accomplish now? There was a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach as he inwardly speculated. None of the scenarios that he was imagining were very good. He stared out the window at the passing scenery and prayed that Carter would make it through this.  
  
  
End Part 10A  
  
  



	12. Kidnapped - 10b - Conclusion

Kidnapped - Part 10B - The Conclusion  
  
  
Dave's eyes widened in horror as the car in front of him slowed suddenly and began to turn. He slammed his foot on the brake, but he was too close and there was no room to maneuver. He braced himself as the van careened into the driver's side of the Ford. Dave was flung forward just as the air bag burst open. He then sat momentarily stunned as he shakily tested his limbs, relieved to discover that except for a bit of soreness in the back of his neck he seemed to be okay. He had just put his hand on the door handle to get out of the van when two police cars emerged on the scene. The officers flew out of their vehicles, guns drawn, and Dave decided to just stay put as he watched them cautiously approach the Ford.  
  
"Sir, are you okay?"   
  
Dave jumped, startled by the knocking on the window and the police officer's face that suddenly appeared.  
  
"Yeah...yeah..." he nodded as the officer opened the door and Dave got out of the van.   
  
"Driver's dead."   
  
"This one's still breathing."   
  
"I'm a doctor," Dave stated as he approached the passenger side of the car where the officers had helped the semi-conscious man onto the ground. "Anyone else in there?" Dave glanced at the back seat, unsure if he felt relieved or just more concern to find it empty.   
  
Tony kept his eyes closed as he mentally debated what to do. Frankie was dead...the stupid fuck... He was out of this and Bill most likely was long gone too. Tony was going to end up being blamed for the damn thing. The kid was probably dead by now, but maybe not...maybe he'd at least be able to avoid a murder charge. "In the trunk..." he murmured. "He's in the trunk."  
  
Dave felt his heart go into his throat as one of the officers managed to pull the keys from the ignition and they approached the back of the car. The trunk was unlocked and the lid raised, revealing Carter's unconscious form inside. As some of the officers carefully lifted him from the trunk and placed Carter on the ground, Dave stared at his friend, unable to even imagine what kind of horrors he had faced. He knelt down next to him as he heard one of the officers call for an ambulance. Carter was pale and feverish, his face covered with sweat, and his breathing obviously labored. Dave quickly took his pulse which was rapid at 130.   
  
"Carter? Carter...it's me Dave. Can you hear me? You're safe now. You're going to be okay." He anxiously watched for any signs of responsiveness to his voice, but there were none.   
  
"Carter!" Dave looked up to see a frantic-looking Benton and Greene running towards him. "How is he?" Benton asked, kneeling on the ground beside them.   
  
Dave shook his head grimly. "Ambulance is on the way."  
  
"You hang in there, Carter," Benton said, brushing the sweat-soaked hair off the younger man's forehead. "You've got to pull through this man...you've just got to..."  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
The ambulance ride to County seemed to take forever. Benton clutched Carter's hand tightly the whole way in and spoke words of encouragement, trying to get some kind of a response, but he remained unconscious. "You've got to hang in there man. You stay with me, Carter. You stay with me..."  
  
Luka and Kerry were waiting outside as they pulled into the ambulance bay. Kerry couldn't help flashing back to the day of the stabbing, only then she had worked on Lucy, not Carter. She tried to focus as his vitals were recited by the paramedic. "Two large bore IVs. 15 liters O2. Pulse 130, respirations 32, shallow and labored, BP 90/50, O2 sat 94, temp 102.1.   
  
They quickly wheeled Carter into the hospital and down the hall to Trauma Two. "Get some O negative down here," Benton shouted.   
  
"Peter....Peter wait outside. You need to have someone take a look at you," Kerry said as she tried to lead him towards the door.   
  
"No...no I want to stay with him."  
  
"Peter come on...let us work on him," Mark, who had just arrived, stated firmly. "Dave...Dave take him and check him out."   
  
"Sure...come on Dr. Benton."   
  
"No....I need to be here."   
  
"Peter please. We'll take care of him," Mark said sincerely. "I promise."  
  
"He has a bullet in his shoulder," Benton called frantically as Dave tried to lead him away by his arm. "And I think he might have pneumonia...you'd better get a chest x-ray. He might have some cracked ribs too."   
  
"Peter," Kerry said firmly. "We'll check everything. I promise."  
  
Finally Dave succeeded in getting Peter out of the trauma room. They were met by Elizabeth in the hallway. "Peter...thank God you're all right. We'll talk later," she called back over her shoulder as she opened the door to the trauma room."  
  
"Take good care of him, Elizabeth," Peter called softly after her.  
  
"I will, Peter."  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
Peter allowed Dave to lead him into Exam 1 and sat complacently as Dave examined him. Finally he tired of it all though. "Enough!" he snapped, giving Dave an irritated look.  
  
"I'm just trying to do my job," stated Dave. "You're not the only one who is worried about Carter you know. We all are."  
  
"Yeah well *I'm* the one who has seen him go through hell the past few days. I've seen him get shot and kicked and watched as he laid there delirious, burning up with fever, begging me for water when we had none. Do you have any idea what it was like, Malucci? To be in a pitch black death trap...thinking that no one was going to come...that you were going to die a lingering death in that place and no one would ever even know what happened to you? Well let me tell you...it was pure hell."  
  
Dave stood quietly and let Benton have his say. He knew it was good for him to get some of this off his chest. He knew that they had gone through hell and it was probably going to take some time to be able to get over it.   
  
"Dr. Benton?" Dave spoke up after Benton had been silent again for a short time. "You really ought to be admitted, at least overnight for observation. You're slightly dehydrated and you took quite a blow to the head."  
  
"I don't need to be admitted," Benton replied. "I'll be here anyhow, but I don't want to be admitted."  
  
"Dr. Benton..." Dave began hesitantly, not wanting to start anything. "You...you've been through a very rough time. You really need to rest and push some fluids. If you don't...you're going to end up requiring an IV."  
  
Benton sighed deeply, giving Dave an irked look but he wasn't up to arguing. "Let's talk about this later. Actually...I could use some water right now, want to get me some?"  
  
"Yeah sure..." Dave knew Benton was just trying to get rid of him, but he did need to be drinking. He went off and returned a few minutes later with a pitcher filled with ice water. He had paused to look in the window of Trauma Two on the way back but they had still been working on Carter.  
  
"Thanks," Benton said as Dave poured him some water from the pitcher and handed it to him. "Any word on Carter?"  
  
"No. They're still in there with him." Dave replied as he watched Benton sipping from the cup.   
  
"Damn..." Benton said, taking another sip from the cup as silence descended upon the room. "Uh Dave?"  
  
"Yeah?" Dave asked as he sank onto a stool in the room. He was actually pretty tired and the adrenaline rush had long since worn off.  
  
"I just wanted to say thanks...thanks for what you did. It took guts, chasing those guys down the way you did...you could have been killed..."  
  
"Thanks..." Dave looked down at the floor, feeling a bit embarrassed. "You know...I didn't even think when I did it. I wasn't really considering what could happen. I just wasn't sure if you guys were with them...and I wasn't going to let them get away...not if I could help it."  
  
"Well...I appreciate what you did."  
  
"No problem." Dave stood up and awkwardly patted Benton on the shoulder. "I'm going to go get your paper work sent upstairs. You need to get into a room, get cleaned up, get some rest."  
  
"Yeah...listen is Carter's grandmother here?" Benton gave Dave a questioning look. "I should talk to her.'  
  
"Yeah...uh she must be...I'll check it out and send her in if I find her, okay?"   
  
"Thanks Dave," Benton said, nodding. "And let me know if you hear anything about Carter, okay?"  
  
"I'll let you know," Dave promised.   
  
******************************************************************************  
  
"Dr. Benton?"   
  
Benton forced his eyes open and found himself looking up into the concerned face of Millicent Carter.   
  
"Mrs. Carter..." he said as he sat up in the bed, looking a bit sheepish. "I...I guess I fell asleep."  
  
"I'm sorry...I shouldn't have woken you...but Dr. Malucci said that you wished to speak to me...and I thought you should know...They stabilized John enough to bring him up to surgery. There was a bit of a debate on whether or not to wait, but the wound is beginning to develop an infection and Dr. Corday decided it would be better not to wait."  
  
"Elizabeth is an excellent surgeon. Cart...John is in good hands." Benton smiled at the woman and gestured to the chair by his bed. "Please...have a seat."  
  
"Thank you," Millicent sat down in the chair, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from her skirt. "I won't stay long though...I don't want to tire you out. I know you've been through a terrible ordeal."   
  
"I'm all right, really," Benton said, offering a faint smile.   
  
Millicent shook her head. "Dr. Benton...I want you to know how very grateful I am for what you did for John..."  
  
"Please Mrs. Carter," Benton said. "I really didn't..."  
  
"Please..." Millicent said, placing her hand lightly on Peter's arm. "I really would just like to say this. Although I'm very sorry you had to go through everything you've been through these past few days...I am grateful that you were there. I know in my heart that you saved John's life. He never would have made it if he was alone. If there is *anything* at all that I can ever do for you in the future, I would consider it a great honor to do so."  
  
"Your grandson...He's very important to me..." Peter said solemnly. "I just want him to be all right."   
  
"I think he will be...thanks to you," Millicent said, smiling as she rose to her feet. "You know...you're very important to him too. He has a great deal of respect for you. I know he's always looked up to you." She could see that Dr. Benton was looking a bit embarrassed by her praise. "I'm going to leave you now. You'd best get some rest." Impulsively she leaned down and kissed Peter's cheek. "Thank you again, Dr. Benton."  
  
"You're welcome, Mrs. Carter." Peter watched as she walked out of the room and leaned back in order to get some rest.  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
The first thing Carter felt as he struggled to awaken was the soft warmth of a blanket underneath his hand. He took a deep breath and groaned softly, straining to hear the voices in the background.   
  
"Mrs. Carter...he's starting to come around. Carter...Carter can you hear me?"  
  
Carter slowly opened his eyes and blinked several times as he tried to focus. Finally his gaze settled on Dr. Benton. "Hey," he whispered , managing a smile in spite of the rough, raw feeling in his throat. "Guess we finally got out of that place."  
  
Benton nodded, grinning down at Carter. "I told you we would, didn't I? I told you we'd get out of there."   
  
"John? Darling?"   
  
Carter turned his head towards the familiar voice of his grandmother who was on the other side of his bed. "Gamma! I didn't know you were here."   
  
"Oh John..." Millicent leaned down to give her grandson a gentle hug, holding him closely for several moments before releasing him and gently brushing the unruly locks from his forehead. "Thank God you are going to be all right. I was so frightened that I was never going to see you again."  
  
"I'm fine, Gamma...It's going to be okay."  
  
"I can't bear to think of what you must have gone through."   
  
"Please Gamma...I'll be okay. I...I really don't even remember a much of what happened. A lot of it is just a blur. I was pretty out of it."  
  
Millicent nodded and smiled down at him, blinking back tears as she kissed John's cheek. "I'm going to go and make some phone calls. I think it's time I told the rest of the family what happened here. You rest and I'll be back shortly, okay? Is there anything you need? Anything you'd like me to bring back for you?"  
  
"No I'm fine," Carter responded softly. "Gamma?" He grabbed her hand before she turned away. "I'm sorry that I worried you."  
  
"Don't' be silly, John. I'm just grateful that you're safe now."  
  
After his grandmother had left the room, Carter turned his attention back to Dr. Benton. "So...what's the verdict? What's wrong with me?"  
  
"Let's see..." began Benton. "The bullet in your shoulder didn't cause any major damage so that should heal up nicely. You were starting to develop a wound infection though so Elizabeth decided to remove the bullet right away rather than wait. As I'm sure you suspected, you have a slight case of pneumonia. It's actually not as bad as I would have thought though considering what you went through. You're on IV antibiotics for that and that should clear up your infection also."  
  
Carter nodded. None of it sounded too bad and he felt much improved from when he had been in the cell. He knew he had to be pretty heavily medicated. "Dr. Benton?" he began hesitantly. "I...I just want to thank you for what you did for me in there. I would never have made it without you."  
  
"Come on, Carter..." Benton replied. "I didn't do anything that you or anyone else wouldn't have done in the same situation."  
  
"Even so...you saved my life." Carter looked sincerely into the eyes of the man he had admired for so long. "And I want you to know that I appreciate it."  
  
"I know you do Carter...but you should know by now that I'd never let anything happen to you, not if I could help it."  
  
"I do know that," Carter said, absently toying with a stray thread on the edge of his blanket.   
  
The two men were silent for a short time before Benton spoke. "You know Carter...what we went through...it probably isn't going to be the easiest thing in the world to just forget. If...if you ever want to talk about it or anything...well...you know...you should come to me."  
  
"Really?" Carter pondered that for a few moments. He remembered when Dennis Gant had died. He had wanted to talk to Dr. Benton then too, but Benton had refused to discuss his feelings. He hadn't even acknowledged that what had happened to Dennis had affected him. They had certainly come a long way since that time. "That'd be good." He knew the memories of what happened weren't going to fade away any time soon. For right now though, he preferred to try not to think about it. He knew at some point he was going to have to face what had happened, but not quite yet. He just wanted to focus on getting well, being grateful for light and water and warmth...all the things he had thought he would never have again.   
  
Carter put his hand up to his mouth as he unsuccessfully tried to stifle a yawn.   
  
"I'm going to let you get some sleep, Carter," Benton said, standing up as he lightly patted Carter's shoulder. Half the people in the hospital are going to be in here visiting you. You'd better get some rest while you can."  
  
"Okay...I will..." Carter didn't even try to fight the sleepiness that was overcoming him. Even the pancake-like hospital pillows seemed like an amazing luxury to him, after days spent on the cold, hard floor of the cell. "Thanks again, Dr. Benton..." he said as his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep.  
  
Benton stood and watched his former student for a few minutes. He knew that neither of them would ever forget what they had gone through together. He had heard before of how people's lives changed after going through certain life-altering events. He knew that his own life would never be the same, nor would his relationship with Carter. He vowed to no longer take any of his relationships for granted in the future. He sighed deeply as he slowly headed out of Carter's room. Now that Carter was on the mend, it was about time he reunited with Reese. He could hardly wait to hold the little guy in his arms. He'd be back soon to see Carter. They could help each other through the aftermath of this whole nightmare and hopefully put it behind them.  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
Bill sighed in contentment as he lounged by the pool of his friend's home. Good old George had done very well for himself since his release from prison. Bill had only arrived the day before and George had made him feel right at home. He had all kinds of connections and would be able to help Bill find a job, leave the country, get false identification...whatever Bill decided he wanted to do. For now, Bill was going to lay low and enjoy his friend's hospitality. He had never before had an opportunity to experience the finer things in life and he planned to take full advantage.   
  
He reached over to the tray on the patio beside him and picked up the copy of the Chicago Sun-Times George had obtained for him earlier today. Poor Tony...He had no sympathy whatsoever for Frank...the bastard had deserved to die, but Tony had just been a follower and now was going to be left holding the bag alone. Bill knew that he too would be implicated in what had happened...but he was pretty sure that no one would find him. He had covered his tracks well and he trusted George. He was also gratified to read that young Carter was going to fully recover from his injuries. He didn't regret stealing the money...Hell the Carter family had gotten off cheap, having retrieved two-thirds of the ransom, but he had never meant for anyone to be hurt. He wondered if their paths would ever cross again. He doubted it, but one never knew. For now though he was going to just sit back and enjoy his life and the wealth he now possessed, all thanks to young Dr. Carter. "To your health, Dr. Carter," he said, raising his frozen Margarita in a toast. "Perhaps some day, we'll meet again."  
  
  
The End  
  
  



End file.
